Secret
by the emerald enchantress
Summary: The Statute of Secrecy has been broken. The muggles have identified witches and wizards as a threat to the human race and Draco, Harry, Hermione, Mel and Sam are trying to stay alive. The lines between muggle and magical are blurring. The war has begun.
1. Chapter 1

AN: Picking up from the final chapter of the deathly hallows excluding the Epilogue.

Narcissa cried out as she finally saw her son, the son for whom she had defied Voldemort. She and her husband ran through the Great Hall towards their only son, Draco Malfoy and with a relief that can only come from a family finally reunited, they flung themselves into a tight embrace. They surfaced minutes later and looking around realized that they would be less than welcome…to their surprise nobody paid them any attention and they 'huddled together as though unsure whether or not they were supposed to be there.' Draco watched as he saw Harry approach Ron and Hermione minutes later and felt a twinge of something that surprised him, something he barely recognised…it may have been regret.

* * *

Prologue

It was a year later and Harry, Ron and Hermione had finally graduated from Hogwarts. Harry and Ron had done reasonably well, but as was expected they didn't deliver anything spectacular. It was Hermione who had made headlines in the Daily Prophet now run by Aberforth Dumbledore; the headline read: _Brilliant young witch integral in the fall of Voldemort receives highest N.E.W.T results since the graduation of former headmaster_

_Hermione Jean Granger of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry recently graduated with the highest N.E.W.T results since those of Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, former Headmaster of Hogwarts. As one part of the brave trio made up of Harry Potter and Ronald Bilius Weasley, Miss Granger has become a worldwide hero, made no less admirable by the release of her recent results. It was with great pride that first post-war Minister for Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt presented Miss Granger with the most prestigious Flamel award for Intelligence, Intellect and Astonishing Bravery. Mr Shacklebolt also proudly announced Granger's appointment as Deputy Head of Muggle Relations under the newly appointed Head of department, Arthur Weasley._

Harry threw down the paper and instead threw his arms around Hermione,

'Well done 'Mione, I knew you would do well but this is fantastic!'

'Yeah', said Ron giving Harry a dirty look and shoving him aside to put his own arms around Hermione, 'this is really great 'Mione!'

Hermione glowed with all the affection she was getting from her dear friends and basked happily in the moment. Harry and Ron beamed at her until they noticed a sudden and unnerving shift in her features.

'What's wrong Hermione?' the two men asked almost in union.

'I just realised,' she whispered, 'that the anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts is next week. Oh how could I have forgotten!' she remonstrated herself.

'Oh Merlin you're right' sighed Harry, 'I can't believe we've only just remembered'.

'Yeah' agreed Ron, 'I can't believe it's already been a year since you killed Voldemort Harry. It's a year since Lupin, Tonks, Fred…' he choked to a stop.

'It's ok Ronald' Hermione gently hushed him as she pulled him into a protective embrace, 'we all miss them but this will be a wonderful chance for us to remember them and their bravery.'

'I know' Ron whispered, reddening, 'I know.'

The day of the one year Anniversary drew steadily nearer and it was showing on everyone's faces. Kingsley had announced a week long holiday on the date of Voldemort's death so that people could commemorate the brave battle that had been fought and remember the people who had died for freedom. Everyone was at the Burrow except Ron's brother Charlie who would be returning from Romania the next day. Bill and Fleur had arrived from Shell Cottage, Hermione had come in from the Ministry and George had just arrived from the shop he was now sole owner of in Diagon Alley. Some changes had been made to the Burrow since the war and Ron and Bill had added a whole new section onto the back so that there was now more than enough room for everyone. With Bill working at Gringotts, the success of George's shop and Mr Weasleys' promotion at the Ministry the Weasleys were much better off financially and it showed; Mrs Weasley looked less harried than she had done in a long time, although that was mostly due to the ending of the war.

Everyone was huddled around the fire in the now large but still cosy living room which Hermione had magically enlarged. There were several conversations overlapping and a calming buzz hung over the homely space. Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny sat together in a corner talking and joking quietly amongst themselves. Harry and Ginny had gotten back together a month after the defeat of Voldemort and were inseparable. It had taken a long time for Ron to get used to Harry and his sister being together officially but it was his relationship with Hermione that was really bothering him. Hermione and Ron had tried dating for about two months but they were both consumed with grief. They had all been defined by the war and it was hard trying to keep up a relationship whilst trying to figure out who they were without the imminent threat of Voldemort looming at every turn. It had been a rough two months but Ron remembered clearly the day everything had come to a head.

'Ronald I _will_ leave this house without your supervision, I'm NOT a child!' Hermione screamed her exasperation at him.

'Hermione don't leave, I'm just worried about you going about by yourself. I know Voldy's dead but…' Ron was cut off by Hermione's cuttingly derisive tone;

'Ron I didn't accept you treating me like a china doll when Voldemort was alive so I certainly will not accept it now. If you want to control someone get a new pet because it's _not_ going to be me!'

'Hermione I lost Fred and I just couldn't bear it if I lost anyone else…'

'Ron how many more times are you going to use that line on me?'

'Hermione I…'

'Ron,' Hermione said in gentler tones, 'I know what you're going through and I know that you're scared but I really can't carry on like this. I'm only eighteen and I want to get out there and experience things I couldn't when the world was more dangerous. I'm sorry but I can't do this anymore. I love you but I need to find myself and I can't do that if I'm always trying to walk on eggshells.'

'Hermione don't leave me…'

'I'm sorry Ron…'

'Ron! Ron?? Have you heard a word I've said in the last five minutes?' a bemused Harry asked his best friend.

'Erm, something about Crumple Horned Snorkracks wasn't it?' Ron asked in a lame attempt at humour.

They all gave him a funny look but Ginny saved him by remarking that he wasn't so different from Luna after all.

'Oh sod off the lot of you, Luna's completely loony…'

'No she isn't Ronald!' retorted a laughing Ginny.

At this point in the conversation George joined them and the conversation veered onto a different course.

* * *

Miles across the country in a cold and lonely Manor another family was also uncomfortably awaiting the anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts. _Well, you could barely call them a family any longer_, thought a bitter young man. He was sitting in an ornate bay window looking out onto grounds that had once been carefully and beautifully manicured, but which was now almost choked with weeds and wildflowers. He somberly compared it with his own life. Much like the garden his life had been perfectly manicured; Draco had been the golden boy of pureblood society, first in line to inherit the Malfoy legacy and budding Death Eater. It was Voldemort and that war that changed everything but Draco had to say that he rather preferred the overgrown garden to the perfectly preserved one; he liked the wild flowers and the beautiful sprays of colour they presented to his pleased eye. His life, however, had not become so much a neglected and overrun garden as a barren wasteland.

That final day in the castle had changed his life forever. As he and his family huddled together Draco soon noticed that his father had another agenda. When the Golden bloody Trio had returned to the Great Hall he had seen his father's eyes following them, especially that Granger filth. He saw his father drawing his wand and unthinkingly mirrored his movements. As his father aimed at the mudblood Draco remembered her compassion in the Room of Requirement. He leaped up and everyone's eyes followed as Draco challenged his father.

'Touch her and I will kill you father.' Draco's words, although cold and calculated shook as he attempted to reign in his emotions.

'You dare to question me now Draco? And for a dirty mudblood?' His father' voice shook with rage, 'you will never learn! CRUC-'

'Avada Kedavra.'

Draco had spoken the words so softly that at first nobody realised that he had uttered them but as Narcissa cried out people realised what had happened. Lucius Malfoy fell to the ground just as Voldemort had done with a reverberating finality, the evil of his last attempted deed etched across his face in a drunken leer. There had been enough pent-up rage in Draco's almost silent words to kill his father and render the rest of the Great Hall completely silent. Draco stared silently at the body of his father before slowly training his tear-stained gaze upon Hermione. He had just killed his father for a _mudblood_.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

_Flashes of green and red light flew past her at a dizzying rate as an incensed Dolohov threw spell after spell at her, several missing by only inches. She whirled and twisted in a lethal dance knowing that one false step could be her last. The room took on an ethereal quality and she felt as though she was struggling through the layers of a nightmare...only this was no nightmare and there was no waking up. The realization hit her like a ton of bricks and she could barely breathe. She knew she had to be brave but how long can you ignore the fear and remain resolute in the face of death? The shadows crept toward her, strangling her, stifling her and as the room pressed in there was no escape. Dolohov's eyes flashed black and his wand flashed green and in that second the realization hit her...she was going to die._

Hermione woke from her nightmare with a start...well; it wasn't so much a nightmare as a repetition of one of the many truly horrifying moments she experienced during the great Battle for Hogwarts. As the date of Voldemort's death ticked ever closer with an unrelenting finality Hermione felt her world swamped with memories from that terrible night. She tried to empty her mind but it was no use; those memories would be forever indelibly imprinted in her brain and for her, there would never truly be a release from the terror.

Tugging a woollen jumper over her throbbing head, Hermione padded quietly down the stairs from her room into the kitchen. Upon looking out of the window she noticed it was raining and giving in to a sudden inexplicable urge she crossed the kitchen, yanking open the door and letting in the cool morning air.

She took two hesitant steps out of the door, gulping in deep breaths of rain-sodden air and then, ignoring the sudden soaking of her stockinged feet, ran out into the garden. She let the raindrops fall on to her blistering skin and tears mixed with rain to course sad, glistening rivulets down her face to soak into her already sodden jumper.

The rain was so natural. It was washing away her nightmares and her guilt. The war had not left her completely blameless and she thought every day of the lives she had taken, the blank eyes she was met with in her dreams.

Hermione was yanked from her thoughts when she heard a sharp sound not three feet to her left. She whirled around in a panic, fumbling for a wand which still lay next to her bed upstairs, but no matter which way she turned she was met with only thin air. It was then that she heard a rustling on the other side of the Weasley's hedge followed by a deep rumbling, guttural sound.

"Zat really vosn't meant to be funny!" a female voice was drifting over the hedge.

Hermione heard the deep rumbling again and realised it was a laugh, one that she knew very well indeed!

"Yes, well I can hardly help it when-"

"Charlie!" Hermione shrieked as soon as she caught sight of the oldest Weasley. Taking a few quick steps toward her as he came through the gate he gathered her in a tight embrace.

"Good to see you Hermione, I feel like it's been years, you look so…so different" he said with an approving smile on his face, "grown up…you look grown up."

"Well I should hope so considering I'm second only to your dad in the Department of Muggle Relations," she quipped, her nightmares now completely forgotten as she ushered him inside.

*

The second Charlie stepped through the door his booming voice filled the house and within minutes his family was gathered happily around him, questions flying from all quarters. He introduced the woman Hermione had overheard earlier as his colleague from Romania and for the first time the family noticed the woman standing quietly to the left of them, respectfully allowing them their happy reunion. Gasps came from several of the Weasley boys and Harry looked a little dazed, they had never seen anyone so beautiful, she even gave Fleur a run for her money.

"Hello, my name is Emelia Borodin," she said to her enraptured audience. Her voice sounded like a smooth layer of silk, her Romanian accent giving her English an exotic touch as she drew out the last syllable of her surname.

Even Hermione and Ginny were staring silently at the woman with slightly open mouths, taking in every inch of this wondrous being. She was slim and tall with an almost boyish figure. Her hair was short and very dark and framed her face, complementing her features. Her skin was a deep golden colour and Harry stood enthralled as his eyes travelled upwards from her chin.

Her lips were a delicate pink and slightly plump, as though she had just kissed someone. His eyes travelled up past her delicate nose to her high cheekbones but it was when his eyes met hers that the world stopped. He had never seen eyes like that before. They were large and almond shaped, framed with long, dark lashes but it was the pupils that really drew him in…tourmaline coloured pools which flashed with intelligence and also humour he realised.

"Is nice to finally meet you all," she said haltingly but with a smile playing on her lips as she ran a hand through her cropped hair, mussing it up so that it stuck out in a similar way to Harry's,

"Charlie talks about you all ze time."

"Why yes dear, of course dear," Mrs Weasley replied, the first to break out of their trance, "now would you like a cup of tea?" she asked as she immediately began bustling around the now large kitchen.

"Er, no sank you but I vould love a cup of coffee?" she asked hopefully, again running her hand through her hair in what seemed to be her trademark gesture.

"Yes, well a cup of coffee, I'll have it to you in a jiffy dear, you two must be exhausted!" Everyone smiled at Mrs Weasleys motherly ministrations as she busied herself getting the coffee.

"Now where did you say you were from dear I-"

"Mrs Weasley?" Harry asked with a tinge of worry in his voice, "Are you alright?" It was only when he followed her gaze that he understood why she had stopped talking.

"What the…? Everybody open the windows! Quickly!" Harry was shouting and hurrying people around the kitchen and just as they opened the last window everyone understood why Molly and Harry had made a fuss because about twenty beautiful tawny owls swooped in to land gracefully in the kitchen.

Ron looked confusedly at the birds, which were now looking round expectantly at the party gathered in the kitchen, "Well…I've never seen a flock of owls but there are firsts for everything yeah? Or is it a bushel?"

"What??" came the bemused reply from the rest of the room.

"Well, you know, owls!" replied Ron, starting to look a little flustered although it was nothing compared to the way everyone else was looking after hearing his latest revelation, "I was just wondering if they came in flocks or bushels is all." He carried on in a slightly huffy voice, glancing surreptitiously in the direction of Emelia.

As with all the best of comedic situations there was a slight pause as everyone contemplated the utter absurdity of what they had just heard before a trickle of laughter started to roll around the kitchen and within seconds the whole kitchen was on the floor howling with uncontained mirth. Only the owls had remained upright, looking mildly disdainful as everyone sunk onto the floor and Ron sunk further into his seat.

*

_Stupid sodding owls! What's a bloke got to do around here to not be totally humiliated in front of Emelia. Ahhh Emelia, it is only a matter of time before you realise the depth of your feelings for me and when you do realise…I'll be there, waiting to sweep you into my arms and make sweet love to you. I promise my love, the second they make me Minister of Magic I'm banning owls from England! Oh yes! I shall save you from the wrath of the fiery beasts my dearest damsel in distress! _

"Is it just me or is Ron displaying the first signs of insanity?" asked a laughing Harry when he and Hermione caught sight of Ron sitting on the sofa with a glazed and faraway look on his face.

"Weeell," replied Hermione, cupping her chin and scrutinizing Ron with utmost sincerity, "since technically the first stage of insanity is talking to yourself I'm not sure, but considering that his face has showed five emotions in the last half a minute I think I'll go with insane."

"Yeah, so far I think I've spotted embarrassment, dejection, wistfulness, lust and a strange mixture of conviction and fierceness right at the end," Harry smiled as he counted them off on his fingers.

"That's six emotions and five quid says he's just convinced himself that he's going to save Emelia from a fiery beast and consequentially conquer her heart," replied Hermione who was now picking at her nails.

"Five quid? You mean five galleons?"

"Nope, five quid," Hermione drawled with a slightly bored air, "no ways is this important enough for real money."

Harry pursed his lips and put on a prissy face to reply in a posh, high pitched voice, "And this coming from the Muggle Liaison Officer herself…I am shocked at you Hermione Granger!"

"Aha!!" shouted a gleeful looking George as he entered the room, "I always knew you were a fairy Harry; I could just never prove it. It's a wonder Ginny puts up with it, although since I always thought she was a lesbian it makes sense she's dating a girl."

Harry fake snarled at this attack on his sexuality but laughter won out and he chuckled as he gave George a pat on the shoulder and steered him towards his near comatose brother.

"Cor, he's in a bit of a state, what have you lot done to him, another confunding charm?"

Hermione sighed in resignation "Oh please, who needs to confund him when there are women around."

"Ah Miss Granger you speak the truth, boy loses his head at the sight of a pretty face, but all this is beside the point," George suddenly took on a more serious attitude, "those letters were all from the ministry and they're carrying some pretty big news."

"Really? What do they say?" chorused Harry and Hermione together; both sporting similarly creased brows at the sudden change in George's demeanor.

"Well, Kingsley has invited every witch and wizard in England to commemorate the death of Voldemort in Trafalgar Square tomorrow. He's asked permission from the Muggle Prime Minister who has agreed to allow mass concealment and enlargement charms to make provision for the monumental crowds expected tomorrow."

Harry looked confusedly at George's troubled face, "That sounds wonderful, I think it's a great idea to bring everyone together, but why do you look so troubled?"

"Well, the thing is...you're all going to be publicly recognised for your bravery- "

Hermione looked confused as she cut George off mid-sentence, "But George that's wonderful-"

"-along with Draco Malfoy….. "


	3. Chapter 3

When he was asleep he could have been mistaken for an angel. His mother silently padded across the room to open his windows to the clear morning light. She smiled as a ray of light made its way across his face, highlighting the cold silvery blonde of his hair, his strong arrogant face; an adult's face now. A few more steps had her at his bedside and on impulse she climbed onto the bed next to him, her little angel. Sighing softly she brushed a strand of hair away from his face and she nuzzled her tear-kissed face into the pillow next to his.

Gathering herself again she took him in one last time. She let her eyes travel ever so slowly from his legs and feet which were still covered in his light duvet to his torso which was now so strong and so scarred. Her eyes travelled over the curve of his collar bone, to the gentle undulations of his throat swallowing sleepily, past the stoic line of his jaw to the high and manly cheekbones. His eyes flickered slowly open and he gave a lazy smile.

Oh how she would miss her son's eyes; eyes that were now so full of sorrow and loss. She knew what this would do to him but she also knew that she was letting him go. They were in a new world with new rules; he had fought for light in the war but she had not, no matter what Harry Potter said. By leaving her son she was allowing him the freedom to live the life she had always wanted for him. This was her final sacrifice.

As soon as she was sure her son was again fast asleep she slowly lifted herself off his bed. At the door she turned for one last time, "I love you my darling, in time I hope you will come to understand."

She left the kitchen door open and didn't look back as she walked slowly, deliberately though the early morning grass, her long, flowing nightdress leaving a wake of bright green in the dew-topped stems. She walked almost a mile through the grounds to her favourite apple tree. It was here that she sat for an hour or more, soaking in the rays of the sun, appreciating the beauty, the vitality of life. It was here that she raised her wand to her own heart and uttered the curse which to Draco, would be forever unforgivable.

________________________________________________________

Draco had been dreaming. It wasn't a pleasant dream but then they never were. During the day he usually managed to control his thoughts; he was just a young man living in peace and quiet with his mother, he wasn't a by-product of war, he had not killed his father, his soul had not been destroyed. But with the dark shroud of night when he could no longer keep his eyes from sliding closed, his subconscious came alive and his soul died. This morning he was roused slightly when he felt a weight on his bed. Strange. He knew his mother came in most mornings but she had never lain on his bed before. He sleepily opened his eyes and tried a smile before he was pulled back under, into all those awful moments he was forced to relive every night.

Two hours later Draco threw off the last veil of sleep to be greeted by a beautiful morning. When he shifted onto his side he could still see the indentation where his mother had lain earlier that morning. He stroked the place where her head had rested before stretching his lithe young body and swinging his legs over the edge of his bed. He smiled lightly as his feet touched the floor; he loved the feel of the dark wooden boards on his soles. He shifted forward, putting all of his weight on his feet to stand up, and grabbing his robe he stalked downstairs.

He knew his mother would be in the garden until noon at least, so he went to the library where he asked one of the house elves to bring him some breakfast and a mug of coffee. He had freed all their house elves two years before, although it had been at the expense of several beatings from his father, and two of the elves; Minnie and Topsy, had opted to stay.

He chose his throne, a beautiful red leather armchair from where he perused his kingdom. It was a large room with a dark parquet floor. He had never known what colour the walls were because every inch was covered with stained oak bookshelves, standing austere and dignified, reaching their dark, ornate arms toward the infinite ceiling. He felt like some poetry and his eyes expertly scanned the dark shelves for his favourite books of prose. He eventually decided on Yeats, moving briskly towards the ladder that would lead him to his beloved book.

Once he had retrieved his treasure he sat back down in his red leather armchair, thumbing through the worn pages of the book he had read so many times. He sat in the library for almost three hours, his only distraction being Topsy who arrived with his coffee, some toast and a letter. Draco absently noted that the letter bore the seal of the Ministry and went back to his book.

It was one in the afternoon when Draco finally awoke from his reverie and realised he had not yet spoken to his mother. Strange. She usually came into the library well before lunch in order to get him outside and away from his books, even if just for a short while. He raised his arms above his head, stretching out his body, much the same way a cat would stretch out its limbs after a long doze. As he did this he again noticed the letter, sitting patiently on the silver breakfast tray. _I'll open it later, once I've found mother and had some lunch…maybe I'll even go flying… _he let his thoughts run absently as he made his way down the stairs and into the kitchen.

Seeing the door left open he headed out into the garden looking for his mother; surely she should be in by now. He knew she had several favourite spots in their sweeping grounds so he headed first to the bench by the lake.

It was turning into a beautiful afternoon and a light breeze made small ripples appear on the surface of the lake, the weeping willows at the lakeside nodded a greeting to him as the breeze lazily swayed them from side to side. He went round almost the entire span of the grounds but could not find her, he had even checked his father's grave. Narcissa had carefully chosen Lucius' final resting place and although he could barely admit it to himself, Draco loved it.

The tomb was nestled into the side of an abandoned arbor that his father had built in the years between the wars when they had been happy. Draco remembered spending so many afternoons here with his parents before he started going to Hogwarts and the imminent arrival of Voldemort changed his father back into a cruel and heartless man. Draco knew he could never forgive his father for not standing up for his family. He had been a weak man; content to prey on those less powerful than him and spineless enough to give up the happiness and safety of his family in order to stay in the Dark Lord's good graces. Draco felt himself kneeling in front of the grave and slipping into memories of his mother and father when he had been about to enter into his fourth year.

'_Lucius, the Dark Mark is getting stronger; we must act before the Dark Lord rises to power again. We must go to Dumbledore; you know he will help us,' a panicking Narcissa stood tall in front of her husband._

_  
'No! We shall not go crawling to that insufferable old fool for protection! Can't you see you stupid woman? Dumbledore is only spreading these rumours to lure those of us who are still faithful to the Dark Lord into incriminating ourselves!'_

_  
'Lucius we both know that they are not just rumours! Can Dumbledore make your arm burn? I see the way you cradle it in your sleep, your Dark Mark is summoning you, becoming stronger all the time! Lucius the Dark Lord is returning and I will not go back to the life we led before Voldemort disappeared!'_

_  
'You dare to utter his name you worthless bitch!!' Lucius was screaming now and Narcissa no longer stood tall but cowered in fear as her enraged husband advanced upon her. Draco rushed into the room as his father raised his hand to strike Narcissa._

_  
'Father?' said a shocked Draco as he took in the scene in front of him. He had not seen his father behave like this in years. He was disdainful and proud and a bully but he had not resorted to violence since Voldemort had been vanquished. _

_  
'Get out Draco,' his father said in a soft, dangerous voice which Draco instantly recognised as one he had used countless times on the disgusting Golden trio. The boy went into a spiral of shock as he realised that the spine-chilling voice had been directed toward him. _

_  
'No, I won't,' replied Draco with a quivering voice, 'not until mother can leave with me.'_

_  
'Draco please,' his mother pleaded, 'you must go I will be fine.' Draco evidently did not remember who his father had been during the war but Narcissa remembered it as if it was yesterday and she knew that her son's life was in danger. 'Go Draco!' his mother attempted one last time before she trained her eyes on the floor and disappeared into herself. _

_  
'You should have listened to your mother boy; you will not like what you are about to see- CRUCIO!'_

_Draco watched in horror as his mother screamed and writhed in unmentionable agony and before he knew it he had launched himself on his father. He suddenly felt himself thrown backwards against a wall and he clawed at his throat against the invisible force that was now choking him._

He looked up at his father in desperation but there was no pity in his cold face, only badly contained rage. 'Don't fuck with me boy, I may have been fatherly these past few years but the Dark Lord is returning and you need to control yourself! If you are to take over the Malfoy legacy and join the ranks of the Death Eaters you must learn to be ruthless! Do you hear me you snivelling piece of shit? Ruthless! Do you understand??'

Draco could see his father's mouth moving and the words made their way sluggishly into his clouded brain, he understood perfectly…his life would never be the same and any paternal feelings his father had garnered over the past few years had been engulfed by fear, cowardice and misplaced anger. He understood his life was over and nodded his assent. The last thing he saw was his mother's helpless tear-tracked face before he slipped into darkness.

Sitting by the beautiful tomb Draco felt the bile of bitterness rise in his throat. His father didn't deserve this ending; this was no place for a dark soul to rest. His poor mother…and suddenly he remembered; his mother was the reason he was outside and he had yet to find her.

The last place he thought she could be was by her favourite apple tree. It was her favourite place in the whole garden but she so rarely went there as it was too painful for her to return to the place where her little family had made so many happy memories before the Dark Lord had returned and her husband's spirit had left her. As he strode through the grass to the tree he spotted the tell-tale signs of dew and he imagined his mother walking through the garden like an angel or a wish as he had seen her so many times in the early mornings, collecting dew on the trailing folds of her nightdress.

As soon as he was close enough Draco could see his mother lying at the base of the tree but something looked wrong. He brushed it off, remonstrating himself for worrying too much but as he came closer he saw that something was definitely very wrong. She was lying with open eyes but they were cold and unblinking and her body was angled like a dove with a broken wing. He began running and was by her side in seconds. Tears blurred his vision as he felt for her pulse. She was already cold.

He couldn't breathe and he felt as though the entire world's darkness was rushing in on him, crushing him under all of its weight. Unthinkingly he slid her eyelids over her unseeing eyes and lay next to her. She could be sleeping. She was sleeping. He lifted her arm and crawled underneath it. It was such a childish thing to do but he stayed there tucked in his mother's cold embrace for what felt like minutes but was probably closer to an hour. He let his tears slide into the grass that reached up to him with stiff green stalks.

Draco eventually roused himself enough to see that a roll of parchment had fallen from his mother's hand and he reached for it blindly, hoping it contained some kind of answer to his tortured questions. He slowly unrolled the stiff parchment and began to read…

_My dearest Draco_

Darling, I am so sorry. I realise you will struggle to come to terms with what I have done but I did it with your best interests at heart. This letter is my apology to you for everything I have done but also for everything I have never had the strength to do.

After the fall of Voldemort your father was a changed man, he was a man I had never seen before, a good father…an almost loving husband. When Voldemort came back into power he regressed into his violence and anger but I always thought that he would find the strength to come back to us; to stand up for us and help win the war against Voldemort.

It was so foolish of me to think this and it was a hope I held onto for so many years that I lost sight of what we had all become. It is entirely my fault that darkness now eats at your soul and for that I can never even begin to apologise enough.

You are the true love of my life, my little angel, my son and I should have stood up to your father sooner. I was so proud when I found out you had switched sides and were helping to bring down Voldemort; you always had strength that I never possessed. So this is my sacrifice to you. I am the last tie to your old life of suffering and hatred and so in freeing myself I am freeing you, my love.

It may take you a long time to understand this but I do not wish for my death to hold you back; this is your chance to move on and have a normal life. You will no longer be tied down to your hateful parents who were seen as supporters of Voldemort from beginning to end which we were, but not in the way people think, I'm sure. It was out of fear for you and our lives my darling and we both should have had the strength to stand up and fight for you and your future. It turns out you were strong enough to fight for your own future and humble enough to keep it from most people, just as Severus did.

There is a letter from the Ministry with your name on it. I received one too. It is an invitation to the first commemoration of Voldemort's death and you are being recognised for your bravery. So you see my darling, your heroism did not go unnoticed and now is your best chance to make something wonderful of your life. I am so sad that I will never see you married or meet my grandchildren but this sacrifice will give you that chance…don't waste it on anger and regret.

I miss you already but I am always with you. I love you to the moon and back my darling.

Narcissa

As he lay back down, he recalled a passage of Yeats that he had read just that morning:

…Now that my ladder's gone,  
I must lie down where all the ladders start,  
In the foul rag-and-bone shop of the heart.

His ladder was gone.

The shadows played languidly across his face with the mottled sunlight streaming a kaleidoscope pattern onto his pale skin. When he was around the subtle sorcery of nature he felt as though his tragedy had never happened.  
'Shall I ever again be my own master...will I ever find a semblance of what they call love in what my world has become?' He hadn't realised that his words had been spoken aloud and the trees nodded their assent to his strangled plea. What was love anyway to a boy who had killed his own father out of hatred? A boy who now lay next to his dead mother. Love was everything that was light and good and human, what would it want with his destroyed soul? No, he would not be blinded by the lights, why would he when the life of a nocturnal creature suited him so much better. It was then that his soul took its final breath and closed to the world.

_________________________________________________________


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Hermione

I awoke to the sound of rain again. I awoke to mixed feelings. Today was the day. Today was the day that Harry had killed Voldemort. Death was a release too merciful for the suffering that man had caused and I felt a surge of anger rising inside me like an unstoppable tide as hot tears stung my eyelids. This was the second time in two days I had let my emotions get the better of me. It had to stop. I had to stop.

I brushed away my tears before they could fall and climbed slowly out of bed. I felt so very tired. I hadn't slept the night before and I was sure I wasn't the only one. I crept through the silent house and snuck into the room Ron shared with Harry. I glanced at the two boys; Ron was fast asleep but mumbling quietly and my heart almost broke when I saw his sleeping face crumble…I could imagine which moment he was reliving.

Harry was awake as I knew he would be. The shadows of sleeplessness had settled themselves under his blood- shot eyes. He looked up as he saw me watching Ron before turning my gaze on him. As though he could tell what I was thinking he pulled his covers aside and I climbed in next to him. He put a protective arm around me and we lay in our dark nest, thinking the same unspoken thoughts.

I felt his warmth against my skin and with this contact in mind I sent him every ounce of strength I had left in me. He would need it more than I would today. Harry, realizing this, nuzzled his head into the crease of my neck and a few minutes later I felt a tear track a desperate path from his troubled eyes. It seemed to hesitate as it peered over the precipice of his nose before dropping silently to my skin and making its way down the soft curve of my collar bone.

We must have lain in that position for almost an hour; Harry silently crying and both of our thoughts focused on one thing: Voldemort. This was proof that he still held sway over us. He still dictated what we did, what we thought, how we felt…was all of the bloodshed for nothing? No, of course not, my rational side raised its head; with Voldemort gone people were beginning their lives again, people were no longer dying. I scolded myself for having such foolish thoughts and realised that Harry and I had done quite enough soul-searching for the moment.

'Let's get up.' I said it so softly that at first I thought he hadn't heard me. I was about to repeat myself when I felt Harry's embrace tighten. He hugged me so hard I thought my ribs might crack but he released me just as suddenly as he had embraced me. I understood.

We both got out of bed not saying a word. I moved over to Ron to wake him. I shook his shoulder and his eyes flew open in fear, 'Ron? Ron, it's me, Hermione, you're ok, you're alright,' I muttered soothingly.

Ron sat up in a daze, holding his head in his hands, 'Oh, God I could see it all so clearly…Fred was laughing…he was laughing and then he…and then he-'

Harry and I both sat on Ron's bed, 'I know mate,' Harry said softly to his friend, 'you're alright, you're alright.' We all sat in silence for a few minutes, letting Ron gather himself before making our way downstairs to the kitchen.

We were the first ones there but in no less than half an hour everyone was huddled in the warm kitchen. Faces were expressionless, apart from George whose face held emotions too complex to even describe and Mrs Weasley who looked permanently to be on the edge of tears. Harry, Fleur, Ginny and I began making breakfast but nobody ate much, not even Ron which was so extremely out of character that his mother threatened to have him admitted to St Mungo's.

'For the last time mum I'm fine,' growled Ron and everyone could tell that his famous temper was about to make an appearance.

'How about we all head outside for a game of Quidditch eh? Take the edge off,' suggested Arthur in attempt to diffuse the situation. Surprisingly it worked and Ron cast a glance at Emelia before asking whether or not she played. I tried to hide a grin as she replied in the affirmative. He blushed and then smiled goofily as he began to regale her with stories of his Quidditch triumphs at Hogwarts, his nightmare, for the moment, forgotten. Harry and Bill appeared with the brooms, minor scuffles developing over who got the better ones. 'Better not be any owls,' I heard Ron muttering as he shouldered his broom and headed out into the back garden.

A few hours later everyone came back inside for lunch, they were also expecting the arrival of Andromeda and Teddy. After lunch everyone was planning to go to the beautiful graveyard in Wales where everyone from the battle had been buried. It would not be an easy journey to make considering the much loved souls that were now trapped beneath the earth.

When lunch was done everyone gathered in the sitting room to wait for Andromeda and little Teddy Lupin. Harry was especially excited as he hadn't seen his little godson at all in the past year and had resolved that from today he was going to be more involved with Lupin and Tonks' son. I was balancing on the arm of Ginny's chair, quietly observing everyone. I beamed around at all the people I loved, suddenly realizing how lucky we all are.

Everybody suffered beyond measure but most of us made it through the war with an appreciation of how lucky we are to have peace again. I almost fell from my precarious position next to Ginny as the fireplace suddenly glared green and Andromeda Tonks stepped out of the fireplace with a squirming bundle wrapped tightly in her arms.

'Ah Andromeda!' cried Mrs Weasley, 'we're so glad you're here and with little Teddy, I know Harry has been dying to see him all year…how are you holding up?'

I could see the pain and exhaustion in the creases of Mrs Tonks' aura but she put on a brave face for everyone and answered all the eager questions that came her way about Teddy. It must be so hard for her…I couldn't even begin to imagine what it must be like to lose a husband and a daughter in the same year.

Suddenly the fireplace glowed green again and we all turned to stare at it in shock; we weren't expecting anyone else. Out of habit I whipped out my wand and turned to face the fireplace full-on. From the corner of my eye I noticed that more than half the room had done the same.

'Well, this is a little intimidating,' came the deep voice of Kingsley as he stepped out of the fireplace chuckling a little, 'I'm sorry to have come unannounced but I just wanted to debrief everyone on what will be happening tonight.'

I sighed in relief as I pocketed my wand, 'sorry Kingsley, but you know "Constant Vigilance"! Moody taught us almost too well, it's a hard habit to break.'

'Vigilance will never be a bad habit Miss Granger,' he replied smiling. I smiled warmly back as the Minister spoke. Now that he was my new boss we had become quite close, especially after all those years of fighting in the war together. I thought back to the disastrous night we had broken Harry out of Number four. Kingsley had saved my life more than once and I owed so much to him. My thoughts were interrupted when Kingsley began speaking…

Draco

_Do I go? It's such a simple question with an answer that's anything but…fuck. I need a shot of firewhisky._

Frustrated, Draco stalked over to the drinks cabinet and wrenched open the glass-covered door. Reaching into the back he pulled out a bottle of firewhisky but at the last moment his eye caught sight of a bottle he had not seen since the days of his father. He shifted the clinking bottles to read the label: _Vladimir's Avada Absinthe. _Draco cringed as he remembered the last time he had attempted this vile drink but desperate times called for desperate measures…_bugger it…bugger it all_, he thought as he knocked back a large swig. Minutes later he was still gasping and felt as though someone had blazed a path of molten lava from his mouth to his stomach as he struggled to regain his breath..._yup…this ought to do it_...he thought sadistically.

After several more burning swigs of liquid death, Draco sat in his red armchair with blunt tears coursing their now familiar way down his high porcelain cheekbones, as he sat and read his mother's letter. Every time he finished his eyes would course straight back to the top of the now crumpled parchment to continue their cycle of slow, drunken torture.

He simply couldn't go…how was he supposed to walk into an arena with hundreds of thousands of people who despised him? How was he supposed to face Granger…that piece of shit Granger. He growled unconsciously as her face swam before his blurred vision. She was the reason his father now lay cold and dead in the ground…she was the reason his mother had killed herself. That fucking bitch was the reason his life was nothing but a broken, empty shell. Deep inside he knew it wasn't her fault, but right now that was what he needed to believe.

He had to go…what would they think of him? His mother's words rushed back to him, filling his senses; _your heroism did not go unnoticed._ He was being recognised. He, Draco Malfoy was going to be recognised for fighting to bring down Voldemort. If he didn't go now he would never have a chance to redeem himself in the eyes of those who had won the war…_now is your best chance to make something wonderful of your life. _He knew his mother was right and as a new resolve filled his stormy eyes he slammed down the bottle of absinthe and went to prepare for the Memorial.

I could feel the wind whipping my hair about my head and biting at my exposed cheeks as we climbed ever higher. We were half way up Mole Famau, the beautiful Welsh mountain that served as the giant tombstone for our loved ones. The hard, cracked path that had served so many feet wended its way up away from me into the distance and I needed a rest.

'I'll catch you up,' was my whispered statement to Harry. He nodded and I sat down on a windswept bench perched precariously on the side of the mountain, looking down at the valleys laid down below. Tilting my head I watched our solemn and silent party trek ever higher, like they were moving away from me in more ways than one.

I couldn't go up there. Not today. Maybe in a few years I would have the strength. Maybe. Besides; this was a private moment for all of them, my family was safe at home in Sussex, and I couldn't understand what they were all feeling. I didn't want to try.

Instead I looked at the landscape spread down in front of me. I could see the white blobs of hardy sheep moving through the bracken and moss, shying away whenever a sheepdog came too near. I also spotted a farmhouse nestled in a copse of trees so far below me. I wonder who lives there, what their lives are like. I bet they never knew that for more than twenty years a war had been raging under their very noses. I bet they have no idea that we even exist. There is a whole world out there that they know nothing about.

I pitied them in a way, those little tiny people down there living quietly on their farm; they were living a life of ignorance. _Hold on, I've changed my mind…I don't pity them at all, I think I envy them. _

As I thought over what my life would have been like as a muggle my thoughts returned to all that Kingsley had told us earlier in the afternoon. According to him Trafalgar square had been enlarged to fit in a crowd of hundreds of thousands as well as being enforced with Muggle repelling and disillusionment charms. In one corner of the square a floating stage had been set up from which all the speeches would be made and awards handed out.

That was where we would be sitting. I squirmed inwardly as I thought of all the people who would be able to see me…all those inquisitive eyes. My only comfort was the thought of having Harry and Ron by my side, right where they belonged.

Kingsley had told us of all the visiting dignitaries from almost every country in the world who would be seated in a luxurious box overlooking the square, imperious eyes casting over all the events unfolding below them. The night would be a commemoration as well as a celebration and a huge memorial statue was to be unveiled in the middle of the fountain. I recalled the statue of baby Harry and his family that Harry and I had seen in Godric's hollow as Kingsley explained that it would be visible only to witches and wizards.

Unfortunately, the Minister had also come to administer us with a warning that made fear broil in the pit of my stomach. He had warned us of Death Eaters. Yes, Death Eaters. He explained to us that there was still a handful of loyalists who he was sure would attempt to sabotage the gathering…it was too good an opportunity for them to miss but Kingsley assured us all the Ministry was prepared for any occurrence. The stage, he informed us, was a large portkey, charmed so that as soon as Kingsley muttered a particular word it would whisk us away to safety should the need arise.

I sincerely hoped that I would never hear that word uttered.

As I sat there letting my thoughts run away with me I let my eyes soar over the ground below. I felt like an eagle from my perch high in the sky, safe and alone. There was a small brook leading past the farmhouse into an adjacent field and my eyes followed this past the endless patchwork of fields to the horizon where I could see Snowdonia sitting austere and graceful with its snowcapped peaks.

More than an hour later my grave assemblage returned from their pilgrimage and I attempted an understanding smile at Ron which came out as more of a grimace. Harry held out his hand as they all trudged past and I took it gratefully, I think I was frozen to the bench.

I hurried my steps to catch up to Molly and grabbed her bare hand, raw and red from the cold in my blue gloved one. She gave me a wan smile as I squeezed reassuringly trying to impart some of my warmth in the small gesture. Spotting Ginny out of the corner of my eye trudging morosely in her own parallel universe, a sudden act of inexplicable impulse overtook me and I grabbed onto her hand as well, pulling her back to earth. She smiled as she looked down first at our entwined hands and then at my face and the two Weasley women and I walked like this for the rest of the way down the mountain; two young women, one red headed and the other brown, walking tall despite their scars and the older woman, once flaming red hair dying down to a bob of ashes being supported by the warm encouraging hands of the young.

Back at the burrow Hermione and Ginny were trying to decide what to wear.

'Blast, damnation and fucking hell!' screamed a frustrated Ginny.

'Ginny please don't use such foul language!' remonstrated an equally frustrated Hermione.

But really, what do you wear to a commemoration slash celebration where you are to be recognised for your bravery? Hermione sighed as she trawled though her suitcase yet again and came up with nothing. Deciding Ginny might have something for her to wear Hermione went over to the younger girl's cupboard.

Sighing in relief she spotted a wonderful black knitted jersey. It would be perfect, not too somber but at the same time quite formal. She pulled it on and perused herself in the mirror. It was a bit low in the front but she wasn't a child anymore. She smiled a secret smile to herself. The jersey clung to her body and so she decided to pair it with a grey cropped jacket.

She put on some make-up, making sure to line her eyes with the kohl that she had recently become so fond of before covering her lips in a thin film of gloss. She pulled her hair into a loose high ponytail before slipping on some pinstriped formal shorts with her comfy thick woolen stockings underneath and finally her newly discovered jersey and jacket with some flat black ankle boots which had large suede bows on the side. Satisfied with her look she began helping Ginny find something to wear. They finally decided on a pair of black skinny jeans and high heeled ankle boots paired with a beautiful dark green silk camisole and a faintly sparkling green and gold half-trench which came to her waist. She left her hair down and looked absolutely magnificent.

Ginny looked sideways at her friend, 'You know, I'm trying really hard to appreciate the gravitas of the day…I mean I did earlier when we went to visit Fred and Tonks and Lupin' she backtracked hastily, 'but I also can't help feeling a little bit excited about tonight, I mean, it's been a full year now and I sort of feel as though I can move on with my life a bit…we all can.'

'I know what you mean Gin. I couldn't even face going up to the graves earlier today but right now, at this very moment I feel lighthearted. I feel like we're all going to put Voldemort to rest…and I think it's about time too. We'll never forget all that has happened but we need to face it and move on-'

'Girls we are going to be late!' came the agitated voice of Mrs Weasley as she bustled into the doorway. 'I swear its worse than trying to get you all off to Hogwarts!' she huffed as the girls gathered up the last of their belongings.

'Hold on, Hermione wait!' Ginny said just as she draped a beautiful deep purple scarf around the older girl's neck, 'ok, we can go now,' she said with a grin, taking Hermione's arm as they went downstairs together.

The boys looked so handsome and Ginny immediately left to stand next to Harry who was wearing well-fitting dark jeans with a dark navy blue blazer over a black button up shirt, and Ron who seemed to be wearing dress robes, much to his chagrin. 'At least they're nice ones this time Ron,' Hermione smiled as she stood next to her friend who was now tugging at his collar, 'you look really handsome.' Ron blushed and stopped fiddling with his collar at her words but she noticed with a quietly contained grin that he had stood up a little straighter and puffed out his chest. _Boys!_ She thought shaking her head a little and trying not to laugh.

'Ok is everybody ready?' called a harried looking Mrs Weasley as she did a hasty head count. 'I thought we would all apparate but just in case any of you decide to go gallivanting off somewhere I've organised us a portkey straight to Trafalgar Square. Now everybody gather round!' she said as Mr Weasley shuffled everyone around so that they could all get a fingertip onto the cracked dinner plate that his wife was holding. Just as the last of the Weasley boys put his fingertip to the plate it glowed blue and Hermione felt the familiar tug behind her bellybutton.

She swayed a little upon landing before cautiously opening her eyes but upon looking at her surroundings all she could do was gasp, and when she turned to Harry and Ginny she saw her expression of shock mirrored in their faces.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

'What the fuck just happened?? What the fuck just happened?! You have to tell me what happened!'

'Calm the fuck down, you being an arsehole isn't going to get us anywhere.'

'If you don't fucking tell me what the fuck happened I will rip your fucking head of with my own fucking hands!'

'Fine, but stop with the fucking dramatics princess. Are you ready to calm the hell down and listen? Ok. Well, it's like I said; they should have known…they should have seen it coming. But they didn't and now…and now…well, fuck it I'll tell you what I remember.

'I saw you all arrive, I'd been there for about five minutes when you and your…friends showed up. I've never seen so many witches and wizards before, not even at the Quidditch world cup. That Nelson person sitting up on his column was waving at the cheering crowds…the crowds that were cheering for us...you, whatever.'

The speaker stopped and the other man began pacing in frustration, the latter opened his mouth to speak but was beaten to it.

'I remember seeing the floating stage with all the diplomats, they looked so pompous and stiff in their black robes, and they don't have half the power I used to have. There was also a stage for the Wizengamot, the imperious fools sitting there in red and black taking credit for a victory they had attempted to thwart.'

The speaker had gone off subject and the listener's fists curled in frustration. The listener again tried to open his mouth but the tall, lean speaker cut in for the second time in a repeat of their vocal pas de deux only seconds before.

'It was the crowds that were jubilant, the normal people like us, it was as if the people in power didn't even want this freedom for us. The Wizengamot and those diplomats, you would have thought they would be glad to see the end of one of the bloodiest wars the Wizarding world has ever seen! At least Kingsley was happy…even if it was just for a short while…I suppose it was something, a break in the clouds.'

This time the listener, a dark haired man, slightly shorter than the speaker, actually growled with impatience; 'Tell me what happened!'

The speaker licked his lips.

'Well, there were speeches for almost two hours before they began to hand out the medals. First they did the aurors and then the few government officials who actually stood up to the Dark Lord. Next it was the ordinary civilians who had shown "amazing acts of bravery" saving either muggles or magical beings and people. Finally it was our turn and you couldn't have imagined the sound…like a million people joined together in one joyous opera.'

The sarcasm was evident in the speaker's voice but the dark haired listener let him continue.

'They started to call you up, one by one. First the Weasley girl and Lovegood, then Longbottom. Granger and her precious Won-Won followed. Then they called me up. It was strange…the crowd was so silent…it was like an eclipse of the sun…the noise just stopped. Some people started booing but it's not like I'm unused to being despised,' at this he looked derisively at the dark haired man before continuing, 'So I went up to the podium and kindly explained why I didn't want the damn medal. That shut them up.'

The speaker looked thunderously into the darkness before resuming his speech, 'When they called you up I thought there was going to be a riot…seems everybody wants a piece of your now holy arse.'

'Get to the point!'

'Now, now, no need to get narky…'

'Malfoy I'm seriously warning you-'

'Fine, whatever, shut up and let me finish. So you went up and they canonized you as official Fairy Godmother of the Wizarding world or whatever the hell Saint Potter is hailed as these days, and just as they did that I heard this noise…it was like nothing I'd ever heard before, a sort of series of very quick bangs, more like a loud whirring sound I suppose. These bright lights started to sweep the crowds and then I saw these strange dragons in the sky, they seemed to be made of metal but they just rose up over the mass of people. We all thought it was part of the show until we saw muggles inside the metal dragons. Ropes came out from underneath the dragons and then all these muggles dressed in ludicrous black outfits started sliding down them into the crowd. That was when the screaming started…the muggles had these long black sticks and whenever they pointed it at someone there was a loud bang and they dropped dead. One of the muggles pointed a stick at you and you fell.'

'Is that why I can't remember anything?'

'How the fuck would I know Potter?'

'Well why can't I feel anything now?'

'I found a hole in your shoulder, performed a few simple spells and healed it. I found a weird metal thing in there.'

'Shit, they were fucking shooting people.'

'What the hell are you talking about?'

'Just finish the damn story Malfoy.'

'The last thing I remember is one of the muggles shouting out over the madness using a gramophone or something; I'll never forget that arsehole's voice as he said: "Witches and Wizards you have been discovered and surrounded. You abominations have been identified as a threat to the survival of the human race. Surrender immediately or face instant elimination."

"Holy shit."

"And then Kingsley spoke."

"DISAPPARATE TO SAFETY! THE INTERNATIONAL STATUTE OF SECRECY HAS BEEN BROKEN…"

And then…darkness.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

She could smell damp…and…leaves?

The girl with honey-coloured hair lay motionless on the forest floor. An ant slowly explored the folds of her clothing, the undulation of her hips. Her mind wouldn't work.

_Get up. _

The message was repeated again by her brain.

_Get up._ This time more urgently.

She imagined her limbs moving, pushing her clumsy body up off the clammy ground upon which she now lay. Still, nothing happened.

_If only I could open my eye_s. She heard the brief flutter of wings.

A raven perched on a branch overhead surveyed the intruder who had so unceremoniously landed in his forest. The sprawling giant, stationary but imposing, was causing great unrest amongst his subjects. The raven could see, however, that the giant was broken. Its arm lay at an impossible angle and it had lain, inert for many hours now. The raven was certain in his diagnosis: soon the body would start to smell and then the forest would feast.

She could taste now. Mud filled her mouth but she couldn't spit. It tasted of rotting leaves, of rich forest fodder, of pain.

Suddenly she could feel the rough texture of the ground against her cheek. A twig was jabbing painfully into her jaw. She moaned.

The raven, discomfited by the sound, cawed loudly. Hermione cringed inwardly at the harsh sound which seemed to grate against every nerve ending in her aching body.

Aching body. Aching body. Aching body. She could feel!! So she wasn't paralysed then.

The raven saw the twitch of a hand. It was time to take action…he knew her kind. His eyes expertly swept the scene in front of him and he spotted it almost immediately; the stick that looked so different from the others. Swooping from his perch he landed a few feet away from it. This was risky. One hop. Two hops. So close. Finally, in a swift and well practiced movement the raven dashed forward, grasped the intricately carved stick in his mouth and took to the air. Back on his perch the raven celebrated his victory over the giant.

Hermione had heard the disturbance that had taken place uncomfortably close to her face. Something was out there…she wasn't alone.

_Open your eyes. Open your eyes. OPEN YOUR EYES!!!_

She was starting to panic now and she was in a lot of pain.

Her eyelids fluttered.

Almost.

It was another hour before she was able to open her eyes, although to Hermione's terrified mind it felt like hundreds.

She could see rotting leaves and rich brown earth. An insect came to greet her…reaching out with his feelers in a reverential bow to the giant.

All the time the raven was watching. He saw her raise her head and look around before she braced her body with her unbroken arm and pushed up off the ground. He heard her scream in agony as she moved to cradle her broken arm. He saw the panic in her eyes as she realised her wand was gone and she was defenseless. He listened to her calls for help, her attempts to find others of her kind. He saw the resigned determination in her face when she realised she was alone and defenseless.

Hermione felt helpless. _What am I going to do?_ She had no way of reaching anybody, no way of knowing where she was. No way even, of healing herself. A thin stream of blood trickled from the lip she was biting in an attempt to deal with the pain of her broken arm. The flies rejoiced at this rich offering and perched on her chin, stubbornly returning every time she swiped them away until she gave up and let them have their way.

_How did I get here…_

In a rush it all came back to her. Malfoy had been there…had shouted defiantly at the crowd. They had called Harry to the podium. And then the helicopters. The troops. The guns.

A tear escaped her welling eyes as she recalled the carnage those guns had caused as they cut great swathes through the crowds. The arrogance of the wizards had ensured that they had no chance over the hard-won technology of the muggles.

Ron.

She had to tell Harry. Where was he?? She began to weep in earnest now as the full weight of what had happened hit her.

The Statute was broken.

The Statute was broken and the worst fear of the magical world had been realised; the muggles had turned against them. Witches and wizards had been slaughtered. What would happen now? Would it escalate to war?? She had to find Harry.

Harry. Harry. Harry. Harry. Harry.

The world around her went hazy. The forest spun in front of her eyes. Her blood boiled, her skin burned. The raven saw her rising into the air, saw the light that seemed to shine from under her previously dull skin.

She landed with a thud…it smelled different.

A harsh voice issued from the darkness. 'Who's there?! Move and you're dead!'

Hermione froze. She was no longer in the forest. Why was it so dark…

'I'm warning you…move one fucking inch and you're dead', the voice snarled before muttering, '_Lumos_.'

Hermione shielded her eyes from the cruel suddenness of the light.

She shrieked at the realization that she was being roughly encircled by a pair of wiry but muscular arms.

'Hermione.' Came a moan muffled by her hair. Someone was holding her tightly and breathing into her neck. 'Hermione I thought I'd lost you.'

Hermione thought she was going to faint with relief. She had no idea how it had happened but Harry was holding her. Everything was going to be alright now. Harry was holding her.

Harry pulled back to look at her tear tracked face. He ignored the dirt smeared over her visage and placed a soft smattering of kisses on her forehead before pulling her back into a tight embrace.

Now was the time to tell him. Before it became too hard.

'Harry.'

He pulled back to look into her face once again.

'Ron is dead.'

She saw the light fade from Harry's eyes. She saw the blankness overtake like a curtain. She tried to stop him falling but her one working arm did little use. From the ground Harry managed one strangled word, 'Ginny?'

'Ginny is fine.' She knelt next to him and took his head into her lap with the care of a lover. Together they formed a silent cocoon in which their grief was contained.

The man outside the cocoon was ignored; his blonde hair never-the-less falling across his eyes to shield from their sight the tears that threatened.

In Hermione's abandoned forest the raven watched the now empty space in silence. He had won. The forest was once again his own.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: This is the first time I'm publishing this chapter so I'm interested to know what you think if anything, lol. This is also the introduction of my first ever OCs. This chapter is dedicated to Margarita and the green eyed girl…thanks for the awesome support! X Tuli **

Chapter 7

'Mel! Oi! Mel!!!'

The girl called Mel looked up from her painting with a smile. Sam.

'Hiya Sam!' She called out of her window to the man standing on the street outside her window. 'Be down in a sec yeah?'

'Hurry up it's been months since I've seen you!'

Tearing off her paint-stained overalls Mel tore down the stairs beaming. Sam was here. Sam was here. Sam was here!!!

Flinging open the door Mel ran down the two steps to the grass before being enveloped by Sam's arms. He spun them around before dropping to the ground with Mel landing on top of him.

'Oof!'

'I've missed you.'

'I haven't missed you chucking me on the ground you big bully!' Mel's words were stern but her wide grin gave her away. 'I'm so glad to be back.'

'How long are you back for this time? You know I'm not sure how long I can hang around waiting for my best friend to realise she's in love with me.'

Mel laughed as she answered, 'Oh Sam you know I don't like it when you tease me.'

Sam looked at her soft toffee coloured skin. He had always loved her skin. It looked almost edible. He absent mindedly reached out to touch it. If she only knew.

'-so I think I'll hang around for about a month before I go back to India, mum and dad are forcing me to stay because they miss me…Sam are you even listening to me?'

He was still stroking her skin, thinking of how much he would like to kiss every inch of it, when he was brought back to earth by a punch on the arm. 'Ouch. Jesus Mel did you have to?'

'Yes.' She said stubbornly as she straddled him with a mock pout, 'You weren't listening to me.'

'Er Mel…'

'Mmmm?'

Sam struggled to control his urges but she was sitting on him…and that face…her eyes…her… 'You might want to move…'

'Eh?' She asked stupidly. Then a look of dawning appeared on her face. 'Oh.' She giggled as she flopped down onto the grass beside him. 'You still thinking of that hot neighbor of yours? I don't blame you mate…she's smoking…even I'd shag her.'

Sam felt he needed to change the direction of their conversation before he got himself into trouble. 'So you feel like doing something tonight? We could go to our old spot.'

'The caves? Safe yeah. I miss that place.' Mel replied as she sucked on a blade of grass.

'K, so I'll see you later yeah?'

'Yeah.' Mel smiled, 'Miss you till then loser.'

'Miss you more nerd.'

'Safe.'

With a quick kiss to her cheek Sam jumped up from the grass before heading off down the road. Mel lay on her tummy, watching him until he turned down the drive of his house and headed indoors. They had been best friends since she had moved in down the road from his house when they were just seven. Mel loved everything about him; his dark brown hair, his pale skin, his intelligent grey eyes that reminded her so much of her mother's…that mole on his left bicep…everything.

Sam. Sam. Sam. Mel hummed a made up song as she ambled slowly back inside. Walking past the kitchen she saw her mother at the sink. Smiling Mel sauntered into the kitchen and wrapped her arms around her mother as she looked over the shorter woman's shoulder at the bubbles in the basin. 'Happy to have me home dearest?'

'More than you know sweetheart. Me and your dad miss you when you're prancing about all over the world.' Her mum chuckled.

'Surely not mama!' Mel said in mock horror, 'You were both waiting for me to leave so that you could finally have some peace and quiet…and a clean house!'

'I even miss the mess,' her mum said with a wink.

'Jane, Jane, Jane I never thought I'd hear such blasphemy coming from your mouth!'

'Oh shut up,' her mother laughed as she flicked some water at her beautiful daughter. Every time she came home Mel looked different. This time she wore her dark, curly hair in a small afro, her wrists were adorned with coloured bangles and she wore a loose fitting raw-silk dress that came up to the middle of her slim thighs. It suited her.

'So where's dad?' Mel asked as she swayed around the kitchen, dancing to some music she was inventing in her head.

'Just gone down the postie…should be back soon.'

As her mother said this Mel saw her father standing in the doorway chuckling.

'Speak of the devil ey?'

Mel grinned at her father. He was an amazing man. Almost filling the doorframe his dark skin glistened with small droplets of sweat, his presence was a commanding one.

'You rock my socks dad. I don't think I tell you that enough.'

Her father's booming laugh filled the kitchen, 'It's nice to have both my girls together again. You rock my socks too Melila.'

Mel was about to reply when suddenly a huge explosion threw her backwards. She landed hard in the hall. There was dust and smoke everywhere, in her eyes and nose and her throat. She could hardly breathe and there was something heavy laid across her chest. 'Mum! Dad!' She was screaming.

'Melila!'

Who was calling? At least they were alive. Mel tried to call out again but choked on the dust that was quickly filling her lungs.

'Pathetic. Muggles are almost too easy to destroy.' Mel heard an imperious voice carry through her destroyed house. What the hell was going on…if she could only get this fucking thing off her chest.

'I don't care. Let's just get this over and done with alright.' So there were two or more of them…Mel's mind whirred in panic and fear for her parents.

'I say we have some fun with them before we kill them.'

The second voice snarled before replying in badly contained anger, 'Kill them now or I'll kill _you_ you pathetic excuse for a Death Eater.'

'How many do you see?'

'Two….now let's get rid of them…you know how much work we have ahead of us!'

'Our orders were to come to this town and attack the first house that took our fancy…I'm going to take my sweet time and if you have a problem with it you can move on to the next one!'

'We are to stick together. Now move out of my way.'

The first voice, a deep guttural growl, wasted no time in replying, 'Fine. I'll take the man, you deal with the woman.'

Mel was gasping now, almost crying with the effort of moving the heavy object off her chest. Mum. Dad. They were going to kill them! She heard her mother's voice over the cackling of the death makers or whatever the fuck they called themselves.

'I love you my darlings. Helao…love of my life…'

'Jane…'

'How touching…' A cruel voice laughed.

_**Avada Kedavra!!!**_

Mel had never heard those words uttered before bur she knew, by some primal instinct, that her parents were now dead.

With a snarl Mel threw off the heavy gable that had been lying across her chest, adrenaline giving her strength she did not know she possessed. She was filled with a blinding anger and hatred…the grief? That would come later.

She crawled like an animal through the wreckage that was her home and just as she rounded the corner of a barely standing wall the smoke cleared to show a sight that would forever be burned into her mind.

There were two figures, dark and hooded with ghastly pale masks covering their faces. Mel noted with confusion that they both held conductor's batons in their right hands but had no time to think about why music conductors had just killed her parents. She lay flat against the ground, her muscles coiled like springs as she waited to pounce.

With a guttural battle cry Melila launched herself at the taller of the two figures as soon as he turned his back. They both crashed to the ground and she found herself a few metres away from the fallen figure. Bounding up again immediately Mel ran toward him before sending the full force of her right leg crashing into his ribs. She heard the satisfying sound of bones breaking but did not stop to celebrate her small victory. The figure was moaning in pain and she aimed the next kick at his head, knocking him out cold. She was breathing deeply and whirled when she heard the second man applauding.

'Well done muggle. That was rather entertaining to watch I must say. Rather careless of my partner and I…not realizing you were in the house could have cost us greatly. Thank you for showing yourself.'

'I'm going to kill you.' Mel spoke with a soft authority.

The Death Eater found this very unnerving but disguised his uneasiness with a low laugh. 'You put up a good fight girl but now you must die.'

Mel didn't care if she died…in fact she welcomed death…she didn't want to be in a world where her family was dead. She just refused to die without taking at least one of these fuckers with her.

In the face of death Mel's mind cleared and she saw everything around her slow down as if in a movie. She knew that her father kept a gun in the drawer they kept in the hall…

The death maker strode up to her, jabbing her in the throat with his stupid little baton. She batted it away…how dare he poke her with a stick…the bastard.

'You show much bravery muggle,' Said the Death Eater. Nobody had dared to stand up to his wand before and yet this muggle batted it away as though it were just a harmless piece of wood.

'And you show much cowardice.' She replied. She had to keep him talking…had to keep him distracted. She slowly started to back up before moving slightly to the left. The death maker followed.

When Mel felt the corner of the bureau against her bare foot she knew that is was now or never. Grabbing the stick from the death maker's hand she ducked as he aimed a blow at her head. Picking up a piece of rubble she flung it as hard as she could in his direction before spinning round to rip open the drawer. Flinging aside the useless stick she grasped the gun and turned to face the death maker.

The Death Eater had recovered from being pelted in the stomach with her lobbed rubble and now found himself face-to-face with the barrel of her gun. Not knowing what it was he laughed.

The other Death Eater was stirring on the ground…as he opened his eyes he tried to call out a warning to his comrade. 'Move! That thing can kill you!'

Before the death maker could react Mel pointed the gun straight at his heart, closed her eyes and pulled the trigger. The death maker dropped like a stone.

His comrade cried out before screaming a curse, '_**Crucio!!!**_'

The pain was blissful for Mel. She welcomed it with open arms, she rejoiced in the white hot knives cutting through every nerve. She smiled.

The Death Eater smiled. 'You like pain my pretty?'

Amazingly Mel replied to this obviously rhetorical question, 'I relish it.'

Before the death maker could reply he was hit by a blur that sent him crashing to the ground.

Mel watched in amazement as Sam got up from the ground where the death maker lay yet again. 'Mel! Mel are you alright?!' Sam ran towards her, embracing her and then quickly checking her body for injuries. Mel did not move, her gaze remained trained on the death maker.

Sam took her face in his large hands. 'Mel…please look at me Mel…your parents?' His grey eyes were looking into her hazel ones with a frantic flutter.

She said nothing, simply shook her head. She couldn't look at her parents. It hurt too much.

'I'm going to get you out of here ok?' Sam tried to move her but Mel resisted.

'That man needs to die.'

Sam was scared by the level tone of her voice. 'Mel we need to go now…we are under some sort of attack.'

'That man needs to die.' Mel bent to pick up the gun she had dropped and walked slowly and purposefully towards the fallen death maker who was now scrabbling for his baton.

She cocked the barrel and placed her finger on the trigger. Sam watched wordlessly and helplessly in the background.

The death maker had found his baton. He smiled. 'Goodbye my pretty…I hope we meet again soon…'

And with a loud crack he was gone, leaving Mel pointing her gun at the empty rubble.

'What the fuck is going on…Jesus this is crazy. Mel we have to leave. I'm so sorry Mel but we have to leave.'

This time Mel let Sam lead her away. They picked their way across the steaming rubble, Mel barely watching where she was stepping. Somehow Sam managed to get them both out of the house safely. It was only then that Mel realised the whole street was blurred by a heavy pall of smoke that hung in the air like an awful grey curtain.

'Sam…your parents?'

'They left. I made them take the car…I wouldn't leave without you.'

Mel simply nodded. 'What do we do now?' Her voice was flat.

'We could always go up to the caves…it might be safe there…not many people know about it.'

Mel nodded again.

Sam looked at the destroyed woman in front of him…the girl he loved. He put his arms around her again. 'I'm so sorry Mel.'

Mel didn't return the embrace; she stood still until he took a step back again. He offered her his hand which she took and they walked off into the smoke.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

'Harry.'

He pulled back to look into her face once again.

'Ron is dead.'

She saw the light fade from Harry's eyes. She saw the blankness overtake like a vapid curtain. She tried to stop him falling but her one working arm did little use. From the ground Harry managed one strangled word, 'Ginny?'

'Ginny is fine.' She knelt next to him and took his head into her lap with the care of a lover. Together they formed a silent cocoon in which their grief was contained.

The man outside the cocoon was ignored; his blonde hair never-the-less falling across his eyes to shield from their sight the tears that threatened.

*

Hours later Draco woke with a start. He had had an extremely bad dream…the Statute had been broken...

_God my neck hurts_, he thought as he tried to make himself comfortable. _Hold on…where the fuck am I?!_ He looked around. _Why the fuck am I in a cave…I hate-_

And then he remembered.

_Fuck._

It hadn't been a dream. If his memory wasn't playing tricks on him Granger and Potty-mouth should be around.

Craning his neck through the darkness Draco could see them both in the same position as before, eyes open and unblinking. The only movement was of Hermione softly stroking the dark head that lay in her lap.

Ron was dead. Draco had never liked him, but still…the guy was dead…Draco had to respect that.

The tall, blonde man stretched out his sore muscles before rising from the cold, slightly damp ground of the cave. He needed to breathe some fresh air. Walking softly he approached his two unmoving compatriots. Stopping behind Granger he gritted his teeth before gently laying a hand on her shoulder. 'I'm sorry.' He ground out before snatching back his hand and striding towards the entrance.

Turning to watch him leave, Hermione's face betrayed great confusion. Malfoys and sympathy were not a combination that she was used to.

As Draco stepped out into the cool, dusk air, he noticed billowing towers of smoke in the distance. The world had gone mad. The world had gone mad and nobody knew what the fuck was going on.

Draco was hungry…he had no idea how long they'd been stuck in this god-forsaken cave and he had no idea where they were…he assumed that all the people who had been on the podium were now scattered across England. And he just _had_ to get stuck with Harry fucking Potter. Without noticing Draco growled to himself.

'What's wrong?' Hermione had spoken so softly that Draco thought he'd been hearing things.

He turned to see Hermione emerging from the cave to stand next to him, still cradling her broken arm.

Draco hated talking to this girl. She was the reason his father was dead. She made him feel ill. He took a step away from her before replying, 'There have been more attacks…smoke…dark marks…Death Eaters.' He was so angry his words were barely audible.

As if sensing this Hermione remained silent after his short speech.

Draco had hoped that Hermione would go back inside but after five minutes of their silent vigil she sat down next to where he was standing. Out of habit Draco's lip curled at their close proximity. He had wanted to read his mother's letter, it made him feel close to her…but now with the Granger filth watching his every move…

They stayed like that for about twenty silent minutes; Hermione sitting and looking out at the destruction while Draco tried not to notice her presence.

Then they both heard a sound. Draco whipped out his wand and Hermione jumped up before they mutually began to back towards the mouth of the cave. Both were straining their eyes to see through the smoke that had now made it up as high as the caves.

Suddenly, through the smoke, Draco could see two figures walking hand in hand. 'Stop! Who goes there?' He called in the most intimidating voice he could muster.

He heard the person on the left mutter something before standing in front of the more petite figure. A man's voice then replied 'We are two people, unarmed, my friend is badly hurt. Are you a friend or an enemy because I will rip your fucking head off if you try to hurt us.'

Draco lowered his wand a fraction. 'Are you muggles?' He called out to the man.

'Who the fuck are you calling a muggle? We don't even know what that means.'

So they weren't magical. Draco lowered his wand fully. 'Come forward then.'

Hermione looked horrified, 'Draco what if they see our magic? What if they're dangerous?'

Draco cast a withering look toward Hermione before replying, 'The Statute has been broken Granger…I don't give a fuck if they see our magic. The more people we have up here who are able to fight the better. If they are armed I'll kill them' he said simply.

Sam approached the cave warily, making sure to keep Mel behind him. 'I'm Sam.' He said to Draco and Hermione.

'I am Draco Malfoy,' Draco said imperiously, 'And this is…this,' he gestured vaguely towards Hermione, 'This is Granger.' He finished shortly.

Before Sam could stop her Mel had walked out from behind him. She walked right up to Draco who raised his wand again.

Shaking in anger Mel lifted her gun, pointing at Draco's wand with her other hand. 'What the fuck is that.'

Hermione and Sam were horrified by the turn events had taken. Sam stepped forward. 'Mel. Lower the gun.'

'No.' She said stubbornly, 'Not until this fucker tells me exactly what that thing is.'

'Well this fucker is going to hex you into next week!' Draco replied hotly.

Hermione, alarmed at how quickly things were getting out of hand, stepped in front of Draco to face the gun herself. 'I'm Hermione,' she said in a trembling voice, 'and I am a witch. Draco is a wizard…what he is holding is a wand. He won't use it though…I won't let him. Please lower the gun.'

The expression on Mel's face did not portray that she had just heard potentially insane information. 'These are our caves.'

Sam now stepped forward. 'Mel, give me the gun…will you let us stay here? We've nowhere else to go.' He asked Hermione pointedly.

'Neither do we…of course you can.' She smiled shyly, Sam was devastatingly good looking.

'Thanks.' Sam muttered as he led Mel inside.

Draco hesitated before following them in. Granger had taken him aback. She had stood between him and a loaded gun; a gun held by a very unstable woman no less. Shaking his head slightly he went inside after them.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Harry sat leaning against the wall of the cave staring at the new girl…Mel. She was beautiful, he thought to himself. Skin the colour of what? Caramel? No, definitely toffee he decided; dark toffee. She sat with one leg stretched out in front of her. He couldn't help noticing how that leg seemed to go on forever.

His eyes travelled up her slim form which seemed to be covered in a dress that was once a burnt orange but was now torn and scorched. Countless bangles hung off her slim wrists which tapered into long slender fingers. She seemed to be tracing something on the ground. Her index finger went slowly round and round…Harry found himself transfixed.

After a few minutes he dared a look at her face. Her eyes were following her finger in its slow, steady revolutions on the ground. Her face was oval, complemented by her short black curls, cut shorter on the back and sides and left a bit longer on the top to end in a frizzy fringe just above her eyebrows. He stared into her cat-like eyes. They radiated heat and intelligence…they were a light hazel…the same colour as Hermione's, Harry noted. Mel's eyes were lined heavily with kohl and every time she blinked her long eyelashes seemed to rest on her cheeks for a fraction of a second. Harry sighed absent mindedly.

'Would you like to take a picture? It lasts longer.'

At the sound of Mel's voice Harry started and then blushed, Sam was looking thunderous. 'Sorry.' He muttered. Hermione, noticing the way Harry was looking at Mel, smiled quietly to herself. Draco snorted.

Hermione looked up at Draco. For the past five hours she had been working up the courage to ask him to heal her arm…it was why she had followed him outside but then they had been distracted by the arrival of Mel and Sam. Sam. Goodness…Hermione sighed inwardly and chanced a quick glance at him before looking hastily away as a faint blush crept up her cheeks…he was gorgeous.

Finally, the pain was simply too much and Hermione steeled herself. 'He hem…um…Malfoy.'

'Granger.' He replied simply and gruffly.

'I was wondering…could you…could you fix my arm?'

'Get Potter to do it.' Draco said without looking up.

Harry looked derisively at Malfoy before replying, 'I don't know any medical spells.'

'Fine. I'll teach Pothead and then he-'

'Oh come off it Malfoy she's in agony.'

Malfoy cast a final withering glance at Harry before wordlessly beckoning Hermione over.

'Safe.' She whispered in relief.

She shuffled towards Malfoy who simply held out his hand for her arm. Grimacing in pain Hermione extended her arm towards his outstretched palm. Her eyes closed involuntarily when his long pale fingers closed around her wrist. She felt so uncomfortable, she almost felt guilty for making him touch her. _Oh shut up Hermione_, she told herself, _that's just years of his bullying manifesting themselves…you have nothing to be apologetic for._ With this thought in her mind she tried not to focus on the surprising warmth of his hands as they caressed her skin in such a gentle manner that Hermione could barely feel any pain.

'So you really are witches and wizards,' Sam said from close to Mel. After today he would believe anything.

Hermione smiled, 'We really are. I know it's a bit of a shock at first…you get used to it eventually,' she said kindly.

Out of the blue Mel stopped the incessant rotations on the ground and lifted her piercing gaze to Sam's concerned grey eyes. 'Sam.'

Sam was immediately by her side. 'Mel?'

'My parents…we need to bury them.'

Hermione, Draco and Harry looked up…so that's why she had seemed so unhinged. Hermione tried to stifle an empathetic sob and, bashfully shooing away a hovering Harry, she sat down beside Mel's huddled form. 'I'm so sorry,' she said laying a hand on the darker girl's arm, tears of sympathy streaming down her face. 'We had no idea…I'm so sorry.'

'Thank you.' Mel replied in monotone, 'What are we going to do Sam…I can't just leave them.'

'Well, I've been thinking about that actually…I've decided that it would be best if I went alone. I don't know if it's a good idea for you to see them Mel?'

Mel shook her head…she'd been hoping that Sam would say that.

'So I'm going to go down as soon as it's late enough…things seem to have quieted down a bit. I'll come back with some food…maybe raid a fridge or two…if there are any left…' Sam let the rest of his sentence hang in the air.

'Thank you Sam…I don't know what I'd do without you.' Mel crawled into his arms and laid her head against his leanly muscled chest.

'I love you Mel.'

'I love you too Sam.'

Harry and Hermione squirmed uncomfortably; they felt as though they were intruding on a private moment. Draco scowled and stalked outside, leaving the four of them in the cave.

Hermione, seeing Draco leave, followed soon after, comforted by the soft murmur of Sam and Harry chatting. She spotted him standing a few metres away; he was staring off into the distance.

'So are we even now?'

Draco turned at her words and surveyed her silently.

'You saved my life and today I saved yours.'

'Don't talk to me Granger.' Draco snarled his reply, barely controlling the anger rushing just under the surface.

Hermione, shaken but undeterred replied with only a slight tremor to her voice, 'I- Draco I never thanked you for that day in the Great Hall. You saved my life…I can never thank you enough.' Here she lost her nerve and looked down at her feet.

Draco's hands curled into tight fists by his side. 'My father is dead because of you. You sicken me…never speak to me if you do not have to and never…_ever_…call me Draco again. Do you understand?'

Hermione lifted her head in shock before mutely nodding her head. She had not expected this…she felt horrible.

Draco watched as Hermione turned and went back inside the cave…he felt awful for what he had just said but wasn't going to take it back. He'd never forgive her.

After another two hours in which Draco had memorised every tree and building spread out below him, he turned to see Sam standing at the entrance. He nodded a greeting.

'I'm leaving to bury Mel's parents and find food…' he hesitated before continuing, 'will you come?'

Draco thought about it for a few seconds…well, this muggle could come in useful and he seriously needed some food. 'Sure…I'll come.'

Sam nodded in appreciation, 'Thanks mate. Hermione are you coming?'

Hermione soon appeared at Sam's side.

'I'm not going if she's coming,' Draco all but snarled.

Sam's eyes bore into Draco's before he spoke, 'Please.'

Draco knew how pathetic he would seem if he refused to accompany them. It was such a simple request, how could he refuse. 'Ok.' Was the grudging answer, ground out through tight lips.

At Draco's answer Sam turned back to the mouth of the cave where Harry and Mel stood watching them. He walked the few steps to Mel before slipping a hand behind her neck and drawing her forward to kiss her forehead. 'I'll take care of mum and dad ok.'

Mel nodded mutely, 'I know you will Sam…don't leave me for too long.' For the first time that day Mel looked close to tears.

'I won't,' he replied and then turned to Harry, 'Please look after her.'

Harry glanced at the beautiful, broken girl standing next to him, 'I'll protect her with my life,' he said simply and genuinely.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Sam, Hermione and Draco had been gone for a good twenty minutes and Harry was still gazing at Mel. She had resumed the revolutions of her long, slim index finger on the ground. Then he saw her shiver.

Getting up from the ground Harry slipped his blazer from his shoulders. Moving to sit next to her he offered her the navy blazer. 'Thank you,' she said quietly but with more warmth in her voice than Harry had heard since they arrived. After another five minutes Mel raised her great, brown orbs to Harry's, 'So how did you lot end up here?'

Harry grimaced, 'Well, to cut a long story short, all the witches and wizards were meeting at Trafalgar to celebrate the one year anniversary of the ending of our civil war.'

'There was a civil war?' Mel interrupted him, 'How the hell did we not notice?'

'Oh you did,' Harry said bitterly, 'You just didn't recognise it for what it was. All those unsolved murders, collapsed bridges…'

'That was you? You wizards?' Mel breathed, her expression heated.

'Yes.' Harry said not taking his eyes from hers, 'But trust me when I say that we suffered more casualties than the muggles.'

'That word,' Mel interrupted a second time, 'Muggle…what does it mean? Hermione sort of mentioned it but…'

'It's just a term for non-magical people.' Harry said.

Mel's expression did not change. 'Well maybe you have a very narrow view of magic then.'

Harry looked in consternation at the enigmatic woman in front of him before noticing the smile that tugged at the corners of her lips. 'Yes,' he said eventually, 'I suppose we do.'

'So what happened the other night? I'm sorry I interrupted your story.'

'S'ok,' Harry grinned before his face fell as he continued with his story, 'Well, after decades of war we were given one year of peace. One year of happiness. Everything is so hazy but it seems that the muggles…I mean the non-magical folk…like you, now know that we exist. The government decided we were hostile and attacked us at Trafalgar. They opened fire on the crowds…men, women, children…they-' at this point Harry had to take a deep steadying breath, 'they killed our best friend.'

'I'm sorry.' Mel said quietly.

Harry nodded, 'Then we were all magically transported to unknown locations…Draco and I ended up here…I don't even know how Hermione got here.' He finished with his brow crumpled in speculation.

Harry hesitated before turning again to Mel, 'May I ask what happened to you…'

Mel looked up sharply but began to reply anyway, 'I was in the kitchen with my mum and dad…there was an explosion. We all survived it but there were these two men…I thought they had music batons but I suppose they were carrying wands. They killed my mother and father. I shot one of them…the second one got away.'

Harry's mouth dropped open in shock, 'Your parents were killed by wizards??' This was a disaster. What the fuck was going on?! 'What…what did they look like?'

'They wore black…and they had on these masks…they called themselves death makers or something like that.'

'Fuck.'

'What?'

'It was the Death Eaters and their evil lord Voldemort that started the last war…but a war which involves the muggles knowing about us…this could escalate into a World War…' Harry dropped his head into his hands. This couldn't be happening. 'Hold on…did you say you killed one of the Death Eaters??'

Mel replied simply, 'Yes.'

'Merlin,' Harry was looking at Mel with a new kind of respect, 'Not many wizards can stand up to a Death Eater, let alone a non-magical person.'

'He killed my parents so I shot him.'

'I'm so sorry about your parents Mel…mine were killed too…by Lord Voldemort.'

After Harry's short speech the two of them sat in companionable silence, both of them thinking of their lost parents.

*

Mel woke half an hour later with a start. Looking around she saw Harry slumped against the cave wall asleep. Scanning the rest of the dark cave for sleeping figures Mel realised that the others hadn't arrived back…and besides, Sam would have woken her.

Panic gripped at Mel's throat as she shook Harry awake. 'Harry. Harry! For fuck's sake wake up!' Harry instinctively raised his wand but Mel batted it away irritated. 'Harry they're not back yet…we need to go and find them.'

Visions of Hermione broken and bleeding blurred Harry's vision. Jumping up he headed straight for the mouth of the cave. 'You'd better bring that gun.'

'I haven't put it down since I left my house,' Mel said, fingering the trigger as she followed Harry. 'Fucking hell it's dark,' she muttered as they stood looking out into the night.

'So do you know the way?'

'I could do it with my eyes closed,' Mel replied as she sped off into the darkness.

*

'You need to…slow down…' Harry puffed as he tried to catch up with Mel, 'Bloody hell you're fast.'

'I need to see Sam…if anything has happened to him…' Mel stopped but Harry saw the fierce glint of her eyes as they caught the light of the almost full moon. She seemed to be fighting tears. 'Let's keep moving.'

After another five minutes of running and stumbling through the dark Harry was gasping for breath. Mel's fear seemed to keep her mobile. Harry was at least secure in the knowledge that Hermione was just as capable as he was, if not more so when it came to battling Death Eaters, and Malfoy…well Malfoy was still a bit of an unknown quantity.

Harry's breath suddenly quickened as a terrifying realization hit him full force; Hermione no longer had a wand. His desperation to reach her drove him forward as he increased his speed, ignoring the burning of his lungs and aching muscles as panic constricted his throat. Malfoy was the only one with a wand…if her left her, or worse…

Mel suddenly slowed down and Harry almost crashed into her. She put a slim finger to her lips before motioning him forward.

Harry crept close to her to peer round the corner of the house they were hiding behind. He had to stifle a shout of rage at what he saw; Hermione, Sam and Draco were surrounded by a mob of people. Sam and Draco both seemed to be bleeding, they had obviously been fighting fiercely. Hermione's arms were being held roughly behind her back by a burly man in a red hoodie.

'You fucking let her go!' Sam was shouting at the man in red.

'You'se one of 'em…those people what attacked us.' A man who was very obviously the leader stepped into the ring pointing an accusing finger at Sam.

'Look mate, all we wanted was food, I used to live right down this fucking road alright. Let us go…we don't want any more trouble.'

The leader looked at Sam before moving to stand in front of Draco, 'But then why do you'se have a magic stick 'ey? You'se got a wand!' He jabbed an accusatory finger into the sullen blonde's chest.

'Not all wizards are evil you filthy dumb muggle.' Draco was very obviously at the end of his tether and was not making a strong case for himself.

'Who you callin' a muggle 'ey?' The volatile leader was now pacing in front of Draco incensed. 'An' he calls 'imself a wizard 'ey boys!' The leader laughed before swinging his fist into Draco's mid-section. 'Watcha goin' to do about that 'ey? You going to go '_Abra Kedabra_' are yeh? Wave yer little stick and 'urt me? Well you'se got another fink coming mate 'cos we ain't no pushovers!'

At this the surrounding mob cheered and jeered at the three helpless people in the middle of the circle. Hermione struggled ineffectually against the painful hold the red hoodied man had on her as Draco coughed and spluttered after the force of the leader's blow.

Mel turned to Harry, 'What are we going to do?' Only she was talking to thin air.

'If you don't let them go you will all live to regret this.'

'Harry!' Hermione cried out before she was roughly muffled by her captor.

Mel looked on in horror as Harry approached the mob, his wand raised threateningly. 'Let them go.' He repeated.

The members of the mob, no doubt aware of the damage the wand could cause fluttered nervously, like a flock of birds noticing an approaching predator.

What Harry couldn't see was the leader who had disappeared from the circle upon Harry's approach and had moved in a large arc to steal up behind Harry.

Mel could see that Harry was walking into a disaster…why the fuck had he just run off?? Two of them might have had a chance but how could she fight all these people alone?

Taking a deep breath Mel tried to analyse the situation calmly. Looking around she noted that only the leader was carrying a fire-arm…the rest of the mob had armed themselves with a motley collection of blunt objects. Well that made things slightly less disastrous she thought sardonically. Wankers. The lot of them.

The leader came up behind Harry just as he approached the circle of now terrified people who parted as he drew nearer.

'Move and you're dead.' Came the gleeful voice of the leader as he held the barrel of his gun against Harry's head. 'Lower yer magic stick boy before I blows an 'ole in yer 'ead.'

Harry froze and slowly lowered his wand. The leader cocked his gun and Harry flinched. After all those years fighting Voldemort this really wasn't how he had thought he was going to die. Sam made to move forward but the leader spoke before Sam could take action. 'Ah ah ah…don't try ter interrupt sonny or you'se will _all_ 'ave new 'oles ter breath wiv. I'se warnin' you for the las' time.'

'Or maybe I'll be the one blowing people's heads off today yeah?' Mel was standing behind the leader and she was shaking with anger. 'I've already shot a man today and I wouldn't want to clean any more mess off my hands so I strongly suggest that you drop the gun and let my friends go.' The leader immediately dropped the gun.

'You'd better let 'em go boys.' The leader said in a strangled voice. 'Looks like we're done 'ere tonight.'

'Damn right you fucking are…and if I see you near my house again I can guarantee that you won't live to tell the tale.'

'Alright alright missus…we's goin' now yeah? Jus' don't shoot!'

'Sam pick up the gentleman's gun will you?'

Sam backed warily out of the circle before bending to pick up the gun by the leader's feet and then moving to stand next to Mel. He glanced at her…she looked terrified and irate and she had never looked more beautiful to him.

'Hermione, Draco, let's go shall we?' The mob parted to let Hermione and Draco out of the circle.

Finally, after thirty endless seconds, the five of them were together again and facing the mob.

'Now fuck off!' Mel yelled.

The unruly mob didn't need to hear it twice, they backed up before breaking into a run; disappearing into the darkness of the deserted town.

As soon as the last person had disappeared Mel rounded on Harry. 'Fucking hell what was that stunt you pulled?!' Harry, shocked by her sudden turn tried to open his mouth to reply but she shouted right over him, 'I almost had to shoot someone! You almost made me shoot someone! I'm not a murderer, I didn't want to kill that man this afternoon…you almost made me shoot another person! As if one wasn't enough!' Mel was sobbing now, the gun dropped to the ground and she was shaking. 'You put us all in danger…if you'd just waited…' her speech became incoherent as she cried for the first time since her parents had been killed.

Harry looked stricken, 'Mel you're right…I'm- I'm so sorry I should have waited. I wasn't thinking.'

Sam took the trembling girl in his arms before turning to Harry, 'Don't worry about it mate, you did what you thought was right…we've all had a long day yeah?'

Harry nodded his head slowly, he felt dazed, 'Yeah…long day.'

'Shall we go back to the caves?' Hermione said as she slipped a hand into Harry's.

'Did you bury her parents?' Harry asked quietly.

'Yes.' Draco replied shortly as Hermione looked down at the ground. It had been horrible.

'Did you get any food?'

'Those fuckers took it all.' Draco looked about ready to murder someone. 'Hold on a second though…_accio fringe_!'

Hermione snorted before covering her mouth in horror…Draco would kill her if he saw her laughing at him. Also, considering the tragedy they had all experienced it was hardly appropriate…Hermione had the self awareness to realise she was slightly hysterical.

'Er,' Harry said, 'Let me have a go…hold on…' Suddenly out of the darkness a large white object came zooming towards them. 'Bingo.'

Hermione, confused at first, suddenly understood that Harry had performed silent magic so that Draco wouldn't have to be made aware of his faux pas. _Fringe_, she thought to herself…_really_.

After they had grabbed what they could from the fridge they began to make their slow way back up to the caves.

As they finally neared the mouth Mel turned to have one last look at the scene below them. 'Goodbye mama…goodbye dad…I love you…'

Sam put his arm around her as they stood staring at the valley that had once been their home.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

For Kel, who has been just wonderful and inspiring ;) xxx

Hermione sat at the mouth of the cave with her arms wrapped tightly around her knees. She couldn't sleep. Cocking her head she could just hear the soft snores of the others. For a few glorious, torturous hours she would be alone.

Looking ahead to the full moon that hung like a luminescent pearl sown into the dark fabric of the night sky, she let herself think of Ron. She could feel him in the soft breath of wind that caressed her exposed skin and she shivered in recognition. She could hear him in the quiet whisper of the trees.

Hermione felt it rising like a tidal wave inside her; unstoppable and ruthless her anguish expanded. She let a tear slide down her face. Her cheeks were soon tracked with salt rivulets as she finally let her small frame succumb to the grief of losing Ron.

During the day she could pretend to be fine. She could play at being the ever strong, ever stoic Hermione Granger; rock and pillar to Harry Potter. But at night, when sleep claimed her compatriots and left her rejected and stranded in the cruel grip of insomnia, she would cry.

Tonight, however, was different. She was not alone.

He had not been able to sleep either. Wracked with nightmares of his father's dead eyes and his mother's crumpled body under the apple tree, the tall blonde man preferred lucidity to slumber. He had heard her rising from her makeshift bed next to Harry before quietly stealing outside. Curious he had followed her.

Standing now in the deep shadows of the cave he observed the small figure he could just see outlined against the black of the night. She was silent at first but then he heard the tell-tale sounds of her sorrow. Soft at first and then with abandon he heard her lament the loss of her friend. He should have felt pity.

It was jealousy instead that made an appearance. His envy wound itself round him in a poisonous coil as he watched the girl do what he could not.

The day of his mother's death had been the day Draco had closed himself. He had closed his heart to the world. His mind and his will were very much active but his heart was his own and he would not submit it to vulnerability. No, it would stay safely where he could protect it…protect it from the mind numbing misery he had felt at the sight of his dead mother.

There was one other like him. The tall, dark, beautiful girl. Mel. He could see the same hardness in her. But he was still alone. She had love in her heart. She had Sam. He was still alone.

Draco felt a surge of anger course through his veins at the thought of Sam. What had he done to deserve Mel's love? What had Sam done to be her salvation? If not for Sam, Draco could have had companionship. Someone would have understood him.

Visions of her dark skin and piercing eyes, her long, slim limbs swam before his tightly clenched eyes…

But he was letting his emotions get the best of him. Already he was yearning for human contact. With a snarl he banished thoughts of Mel from his mind. A muggle no less.

Hermione, who had been sitting quietly for some time now, whirled at the sound of Draco's deep growl. 'Hello?' She sent her whispered voice to the mouth of the cave.

Melting further into the darkness of the cave at her voice, Draco quietly went back to his sparse transfigured mattress where he feigned sleep once more.

*

Hours later Hermione still sat, a silent mourning sentry as the cold dawn broke. She looked out over the grey world that they now inhabited and couldn't help allowing an overwhelming feeling of loss and hopelessness engulf her.

How had things gone so wrong? They had finally been happy and now…now everything was fucked up again…everything was a mess.

Her mind was swamped with questions as she attempted to analyse their situation. First; what had happened to Ron's body? The question made a small weight erupt in the centre of her chest…a small but immovable weight that she knew would not soon leave her. Had someone been able to apparate away with him? Had his body been transported to some lonely place by the port key? Was he still lying where he fell at Trafalgar… The weight in her chest became heavier. _I need to stop thinking about him._

What had happened to her parents? What had happened to everyone else? She assumed that her friends and the order were scattered around the British countryside. They needed to find everyone…but how they would attempt doing that was something she couldn't even begin to grapple with. I mean, what had happened anyway? How bad was their situation? Hermione yearned for information. Was it a worldwide attack or was it only affecting Britain? Who had organised the Death Eater attack on the muggles? How had the statute been broken?? This last was the most pertinent question and one that she was determined to answer.

Finally feeling overwhelmed Hermione let her mind clear as her eyes again scanned the shell of the town that had once lain before the caves.

'Mione?' Harry's sleepy voice carried from the mouth of the cave, 'What are you doing up so early?'

She put a concerted smile on her face before twisting in her seated position to glance up at him. 'Just looking at the beautiful sunrise.'

Harry took in the bleak grey dawn and puffy, dark ringed eyes and knew she was lying but nodded his head in quiet assent before folding his muscled frame to sit next to her.

'How are you doing? Have your bruises gone yet?' Harry asked with a slight wince. Hermione, Sam and Draco all bore signs of their encounter with the mob several nights before.

Hermione tugged on the sleeve of the knitted black jersey she had pulled on with such high expectations only a week ago, to reveal some yellowing bruises that flowered up her arm from her wrist. 'They're getting there.' She said quietly.

Harry growled but said nothing more on the subject of the bruises. 'We need to find the others.'

'I know.'

'If only we had some way of finding out where everyone is,' Harry groaned, 'This is a disaster…the Order and our friends could all be scattered randomly around Britain!' He ran both hands through his already mussed hair in frustration.

'We could try sending a patronus.'

'I can only send one if I know where it's going. There are some places I could try but I don't want to run the risk of them being intercepted by the wrong people…whoever they are.'

'Oh. Yes, yes of course.' Hermione really needed to get some sleep, she was losing her grip.

'Hermione…' said Harry warily, delicately.

'Mmm?'

'Do you remember the night that- …the night it all happened?'

'Some of it…most of that night is hazy.' Hermione replied with a crease to her brow.

'Because,' Harry paused, it seemed he was trying hard to articulate his thoughts as carefully as possible, '…because you didn't apparate here with me and…Malfoy. We both searched the area around the caves when we first set up a perimeter and you weren't there…' Harry's sentence trailed off into the early morning air. 'What I'm asking is…how did you get here 'Mione? How did you find us and travel here without a wand?'

'I…I don't know,' she said, a frown crumpling her brow as she tried to remember. 'I was in a forest I think…I couldn't move.' She closed her eyes as she concentrated and Harry leaned closer as if urging her on. 'I remember panicking when I couldn't find my wand and all I could think of was finding you. I had to tell you about,' she took a deep steadying breath before continuing, 'Ron.'

'So you were thinking that you needed to find me…and then?'

'I'm not sure…I'm sorry Harry I don't really remember…I just know that one second I was alone and wandless in a forest and the next moment I was with you…I know it doesn't make sense,' she ended miserably, 'None of this makes sense…I wish we could find out what the hell is going on.'

After mulling it over for a few minutes Hermione was becoming more and more frustrated. 'I wish we could just find Kingsley!' She finally exploded. 'Kingsley would tell us what was happening, he would tell us what to do…we need to find him!'

'Hermione…' Harry said in warning tones as she got more and more worked up, 'Hermione calm down, I don't-' He stopped abruptly. Was she rising off the ground…no…it was impossible. Harry looked closer…she at least two centimeters from the ground. Her eyes were closed and she seemed…she seemed to be glowing.

'Mione!!!' Harry reached out to grab her wrist in panic.

With a small yelp Hermione's eyes flew open and she landed back on the ground with a thud. 'What the hell just happened,' she asked a flustered Harry.

'Mione you…you were levitating.'

Hermione arched an eyebrow in his direction. 'Levitating? Harry I don't even have a wand!'

'And…you were glowing.'

At Harry's last statement Hermione paused, 'I was glowing and levitating…Harry are you sure you had enough sleep?'

'In the name of Salazar…'

Harry and Hermione turned to see Draco standing behind them with an unreadable expression gracing his marble features.

'How long have you been listening?' Said Harry evenly, he and Draco were perpetually on thin ice but were both working hard to stay civil.

'Long enough to know that Granger is a fucking Palgrave,' he snarled, and with these enigmatic words Draco turned to stalk back into the caves.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

'In the name of Salazar…'

Harry and Hermione turned to see Draco standing behind them with an unreadable expression gracing his marble features.

'How long have you been listening?' Said Harry evenly, he and Draco were perpetually on thin ice but were both working hard to stay civil.

'Long enough to know that Granger is a fucking Palgrave,' he snarled, and with these enigmatic words Draco turned to stalk back into the caves.

*

Harry and Hermione scrambled from their positions on the cold ground to follow Draco, Hermione looking stricken.

'What do you mean Malfoy? What the heck is a Palgrave?' Harry demanded.

Draco ignored him and began to collect his few belongings, shrinking them before Hermione's flustered gaze and Harry's increasing anger.

'Malfoy! What the fuck is going on?!' Harry shouted, all pretense of civility gone.

'I'm leaving. That's what is going on.' Was Draco's cold reply, 'Now move out of my way Potter.'

Harry made to lunge toward Draco but Hermione quickly intervened. 'Harry, let him go,' she said in warning tones, trying to lay a calming hand on his arm.

'Listen to your gal pal Potter,' Draco said as he started towards the mouth of the cave.

'_Expelliarmus!'_

'Seriously Potter?!' shouted Draco after easily deflecting the darker boy's furious spell, 'That spell got old fast.' He glanced down at the shocked, tousled figures of Mel and Sam who were scrambling, wide-eyed, to their feet. He smirked at the realization that they were about to witness their first magical battle.

'Take one more step towards that door Malfoy,' Harry said in a low, dangerous voice. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Mel's hand twitching towards the handle of her gun.

'Or what Potter?' was Draco's growled reply. Without waiting for an answer Draco turned on his heel and again headed for the door.

'_Sectumsempra!' _

Finally the Potter imbecile seemed to be showing some hatred! Draco turned just as the spell was about to hit him before blocking the spell and returning two in its place.

Within seconds the small cave was filled with bright flashes of light as the evenly matched boys finally let loose all the anger, tension and hatred that had been building up inside them for eight long years. Hermione, Sam and Mel had no option but to cower in disbelief as spells ricocheted off the walls to whizz past them, often missing by only a hair's breadth.

After what seemed like ten minutes without a pause in their rhythm, Harry's wand flew out of his hand. Before Draco could utter another word Harry had sprung forward to crunch his fist into the other man's face. Flinging his wand aside Draco brought his fists up, wiping some of the blood now streaming from his nose. Harry rushed furiously forward again but Draco stepped neatly aside. Harry crashed to the ground and Draco's foot crashed into Harry's midsection.

Without hesitating Harry grabbed Draco's ankles and pulled. Hard. Draco fell next to Harry with a crash as his head collided with the unyielding ground. Shaking his head as if trying to clear it, Draco let out a strangled yell as Harry's hands wrapped around his throat. The two were rolling in a violent mess of flailing arms and legs and dust; their yells permeating the loud slaps and crunches as their fists found their marks.

Suddenly, Harry was on top and he had his hands wrapped around Draco's throat again. He was screaming. 'You fucking treat us all like shit for seven years! Based on what Malfoy?! Based on what?! You put our lives at risk countless times…out of fear and cowardice! You hateful, poisonous…' here Harry's rage seemed to prevent him even from screaming. Draco's face was turning slowly from red to blue.

'Harry no!' cried a sobbing Hermione, 'You're going to kill him!' Dropping to her knees she tugged desperately and uselessly at Harry's arms. He tried to brush her off. That was all Draco needed. Kicking hard Draco's feet connected and Harry flew off him. Draco sat up retching and rubbing his throat. His wand was so close. Diving he grabbed the handle of his wand and lay with the tip now pointing at Harry.

'You-' Draco rasped to a stop, his voice cracking under the strain, 'You are the one that failed to notice in those later years. I was trying to help! I know it was my fault that you only saw one side to me but there were so many times I tried to fix it. The room of requirement…that night of the battle I was coming to find you! Crabbe and Goyle got in the way…but-'

Harry and Hermione were now staring incredulously at Draco. Harry finally spoke. 'You expect me to believe that Malfoy?' he said in a dangerous voice.

'Not really,' growled Draco, '_Crucio_!'

Ducking the curse and diving to the ground for his own wand, Harry had to crawl before he again clasped it in his fist before turning onto his back to fling curse after curse in Draco's direction.

Sam, furious but helpless, threw his body across Mel in an effort to protect her. Hermione, wandless and at a loss, watched and waited, even as she dodged spells, for the smallest lapse in their fight. She understood that this fight had nothing to do with who Harry and Malfoy were now; this was all the hatred of their adolescence resolving itself. Hermione was not often one for naïveté but the idealist in her hoped that once the two men resolved their rage they could be…dare she even think it…friends?

Finally spotting a miniscule break in the rhythm of the fight Hermione took her chance. 'Stop!' she screamed, running to stand between the now hurt and exhausted men.

Draco hesitated. Harry did not.

The three men and Mel, barely breathing under Sam's bulk, watched speechlessly as Harry's spell hit Hermione square in the chest.

'NO!' Harry finally screamed as Hermione's frame crumpled to the ground like a rag doll.

He was by her side within seconds, hauling her into his lap and cradling her like a child. His wide eyes were unfocused in their panic and through the thick cloud of dust that now hung in the cave he barely saw Sam and Mel rising to move towards them. There was only one thing on Harry's mind at that moment. 'Malfoy…please.'

Draco stood by the opening of the cave swamped by indecision. He could leave now and be rid of these people for the rest of his life. But could he leave knowing that he had the power to help Granger? Was he really willing to throw away all that he and his mother had given so much for? A small voice in the back of his mind noted that this was the third time Granger had tried to save his life…and this time she was hurting for it.

Clenching his teeth in resignation Draco made his way to the crumpled form of Hermione Granger. Even if the world he had hoped to be welcomed into no longer existed, he could not erase the final words of his mother from his head: _This is my sacrifice to you. I am the last tie to your old life of suffering and hatred and so in freeing myself I am freeing you…_

He was a free man, free to stay and free to go, but free men also have to deal with the consequences of their actions. For the sake of his future he would stay and help Granger.

Crouching on the opposite side of Harry, Draco gently placed two fingers against Hermione's throat. For two minutes he sat motionless, unconvinced there was a pulse, but finally he felt it, the weakest, tiniest undulation beneath his fingertips. Granger was alive…barely.

*

Four hours later Draco was still by Hermione's side, watching for any change in her demeanor. She lay pale and cold and barely breathing on his thin mattress.

Draco emitted a low growl of frustration; he was still unable to figure out what was wrong with her. Harry had no idea what curse he had hit her with and after three hours of agonizing and fruitless guess-work had fallen into a fitful slumber. Picking up his wand for the umpteenth time, Draco waved the intricately carved stick over her body, muttering the by now familiar incantations. None of his diagnostic spells were working though; Harry must have hit her with some seriously dark magic. _And he was aiming for me_…whispered a barely audible voice in the back of Draco's mind.

Suddenly there was a loud bang outside and Draco's head snapped up just as Harry, Sam and Mel leapt from their prone positions.

'What was that?' Mel asked in a strangled voice. It was obvious that being on edge twenty-four seven was taking its toll on her.

'I don't know but I'm going to find out,' said Harry who was crouched in a defensive position with his wand drawn. 'How is Hermione?' He asked Draco with a guilt-ridden grimace.

'I'll take care of her…just go.' was the muttered reply.

'I'll come with you Harry,' said Mel, grasping her gun.

'Mel…' groaned Sam, 'please just stay. For once, keep yourself out of danger.'

'I'm not waiting here for whatever's out there. You stay with Draco and Hermione.' There was a real edge of desperation to her pleading voice.

Draco sighed inwardly; those two were so bent on protecting one another.

'If you're going you know I'll be right there beside you Mel,' was Sam's forceful reply.

Mel's face was stricken but she nodded briskly before her and Sam grabbed hands and followed Harry out of the cave and down the hill.

In the mid-day light that shone in through the entrance Draco felt suddenly exposed…he had to move himself and Granger to a less visible part of the cave. He didn't want to get caught in the middle of an open space, especially if he would have to protect an inert Granger as well as himself. Dragging the mattress carefully behind him he felt his way back into a darker part of the cave where they would be less easy to spot by any intruders. Finding a network of smaller, gloomier caves he took one final look at the sunlight now streaming into the main chamber before heading into the darkness.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Harry, Sam and Mel fanned out as they made their way carefully down the hill. Mel tried to shade her eyes from the weak, bright sun as she peered out from behind her thin covering of brushy scrub; whatever had the made the noise was close. A rivulet of sweat pulsed its way down her throat where it slid into the valley of her breasts. She felt unable to breathe; the atmosphere was still thick with smoke, her own fear only adding to the potent and stifling air.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Sam desperately signing to her to get down. Hitting the ground silently Mel tried to see Harry's position but could still only see Sam. He was crouched behind a large boulder, eyes scrunched in concentration as he stared at something she could not see. Her heart raced as Sam nodded almost imperceptibly. He must be able to see Harry. Were they going to make their move?

Mel could hear voices now. Rough, rasping tones, uncultured and bold in their volume. They couldn't be death makers, _Death Eaters_, she corrected herself; the voices of the Death Eaters were more refined, more aristocratic. Mel's breathing constricted even further at the thought of yet more unknown enemies. Even as her mind ran away with her Mel's eyes never wavered from Sam's crouched form. She saw the resolve solidify in his gaze.

_NO! _Was her silent cry.

He was gone.

Stumbling blindly to her feet Mel followed the path that Sam had taken only seconds before. She could not lose him. She just couldn't. He didn't even have a weapon!

Running in a crouch Mel spotted Sam a few feet ahead of her. They were approaching a clearing and when Mel saw the rabble that occupied the space her breath hitched in her throat. Leaping behind another boulder just as she saw Sam do the same Mel crawled forward on her stomach until she had a clear view of the strangers.

They were an arresting group, recognizably dangerous. Mel tried to stifle a moan as she took in their size; in front of her stood five of the largest men she had ever seen, in height as well as stature. Two of them lounged against trees at the edge of the clearing farthest from Mel but the other three stood closer. They wore very little in the way of clothing, opting to wear only ragged jeans although two of them were also sporting grubby woolen caps over tangled hair and seemed to have tatty wife-beaters protruding from their back pockets. The rest had layers of dirt-matted hair that sat atop their heads in loosely gathered buns and ponytails. If Mel had not been so disgusted by the layers of dirt she may have gone so far to think that they were sexy…in a very bohemian sort of way.

A deep, guttural growl emitted by one of the grimy group members brought her back to the present and their imminent danger. The men seemed to be arguing. Mel could only hear snatches of dialogue but it seemed that they knew about the caves. The three men in the middle of the clearing suddenly raised their voices and she could now hear everything that was said.

'I can fuckin' smell 'em mate! We'd be stupid to pass up an easy meal like this.'

'Yeah but I could also smell three adult wizards you numbskull! Are you really prepared to put your fuckin' life at risk Scratch? Eh?'

'What…you could smell the magic could'ya Trife?' jeered another voice.

'Did I or did I not save you from those wand toting bastards last week Liam?'

'Yeah but-'

'No buts! If it hadn't been for me youd'a bin a goner just like Jangles!'

'Jangles was careless.'

'Yeah and so were you mate so you'd better fuckin' watch it 'cos I'm not gonna put meself on the line if this is the thanks I get!'

The conversation of the volatile threesome almost erupted into a tussle but suddenly Trife, the tallest one and the obvious leader, straightened up, holding his hands in front of the other two to stop them. All five men were on alert now and the two that had been lounging against the trees melted into the peripheries of the small clearing.

The three in the centre of the clearing all crouched low in a predatory stance with one hand on the ground in front of them as though preparing to race. Their faces were shunted forwards, their eyes slits of concentration.

In a sudden, earth-stopping moment Mel realised that they were sniffing the air. They were hunting.

_Where the fuck are Harry and Sam? _

'Looks like lunch has come to us boys.' Was the gleeful whisper that Mel heard from her position on the ground. She shuffled backwards so that her back was to the boulder. Ignoring her scraped and bleeding knees she clutched her gun to her chest, muscles coiled, waiting to fight for her life. Most people would have run, but then Mel wasn't most people.

Suddenly the first signs of battle rose over the clearing. Harry's voice could be heard as he yelled curse after curse at the snarling strangers. Where was Sam?? Rolling onto her belly Mel again scanned the clearing and had to stifle a scream. Sam was in hand to hand combat with the biggest of the group, Trife. They moved in tight circle, wary of one another. Sam was the first to make a move. Faster than Mel had ever seen him move he darted towards Trife to elbow him hard in the face. Sam's adversary barely blinked and grinned malevolently at the slighter man who was now standing on his opposite side. Mel gasped as Sam moved in again to slip under the larger man's swinging arm before landing two swift jabs to his midsection. The larger man had felt those ones alright.

In the middle of the clearing Mel could see Harry surrounded by two of the other large, filthy men. Scratch and Liam? A third, nameless man already lay prone on the ground, frozen in an absurd position. The two men still standing worked in tandem, never allowing Harry the space to use his wand. As soon as he raised his wand arm to strike the man in front of him, the man behind would move in to attack him at his rear. Harry was bleeding profusely and he seemed to have trouble seeing out of his left eye.

Mel turned back to Sam's fight. The larger man moved in to strike but Sam easily parried the blow. Mel raised her gun and tried to get in a clear shot but was terrified of hitting Sam by accident. Sam moved in again to land a glancing blow on the larger man's jaw. The man named Trife seemed to be feeling Sam's blows now and no longer sported his patronizing grin. This fight was serious.

Mel gasped as Sam threw himself at the larger man for the umpteenth time. She wanted with all of her heart to enter the fight but knew that she was no match for these giant men and would only end up costing either Sam or Harry their fight.

Suddenly Sam was on the ground. The larger man seemed set on finishing the fight but was exhausted. Finally Sam was out of the way. Without hesitation Mel raised her gun, focused with every fibre of her being on the man now towering over Sam and squeezed the trigger. The man fell like a rock, clutching at his side. The shot had not been lethal but it had been enough to put him out of action.

Scrambling to her feet Mel ran to Sam's side. 'Are you alright?' she asked as her hands fluttered over his body, checking for injuries even as her eyes darted between the men on the ground and those still battling Harry.

'Fine,' he grimaced, 'Mel get out of here!'

'Harry.' She said before attempting to drag Sam away from the clearing.

'No! I'll go. Get back to the caves Mel!' He demanded, lurching to his feet and holding out his hand for the gun, 'Go!'

Realising that she was distracting Sam from the fight she nodded. Handing him the gun and pulling him into a fierce embrace she looked once more into his beautiful grey eyes. 'I love you!' were her last strangled words before she turned to flee back up the hill.

Tears blurred Mel's vision as she tore towards the caves._ Please let him be ok… _

Mel's lengthy strides slowed as she thought of all she had lost.

No! It would be too much to lose Sam knowing that she could have done something. Making a sharp 180 degree turn Mel headed back to the clearing at full tilt. If she had not been so focused on Sam she may have heard the man's approach.

'Going somewhere my pretty?' leered a cruel voice before her world went black.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

For Green-Eyed-Girl and Margaritama for waiting patiently for this chapter ;) only two characters in this one...

Meanwhile…

Draco could hear the distant sounds of the fight echoing up to resonate through the caves. He hoped it was a fight they were winning. For what felt like the millionth time he glanced back at Granger. She hadn't moved in five hours.

An hour later Draco was convinced that whatever had been out there was not going to be paying a visit to the caves. What worried him was that none of the others had shown up. Draco was wracked with indecision for the second time in 24 hours as he deliberated his position. Should he go and look for the others or should he stay with Granger?

On the one hand he couldn't care for Granger by himself, she needed to be admitted to St Mungo's and finding Harry was his best chance of coming up with a viable plan to find other wizards. Also, Draco had developed a grudging respect for Sam and although he could not yet articulate it to himself his mind was never far from Mel and her haunting eyes.

On the other hand he could hardly leave an unconscious Granger; not when there was an unidentified threat lurking close by. He also felt strangely protective over the pale, unmoving girl that lay on his mattress with her wayward brown locks strewn over his pillow. He had worked so hard to keep her alive…he couldn't give up now.

If only she would wake up. That would give him some room to maneuver. With a sigh he abandoned his post a few metres from where Granger was lying to feel her pulse again. Her throat was curiously delicate and for the first time Draco was aware of Granger's vulnerability. She always seemed so untouchable, and yet here she was, fighting for her life in a battle she was visibly losing.

*

Several hours later Draco was still maintaining his silent vigil, waiting for the slightest change in Granger's demeanor. Leaning over her he noticed a sheen of sweat along her brow. That hadn't been there five minutes ago. Something was changing…he hoped it was for the better.

Within minutes Granger's small body was wracked with shivers. She lay in a pale pallor, lips blue, shaking uncontrollably. Draco reached over to wrap his hands around the tops of her arms. Through her thin black jersey her skin was icy to his fingers. _What the hell is going on?_

In desperation Draco tried several different warming spells but none of them worked. At a loss he rolled up her sleeves and simply tried to hold her down again to still the shivering. After five panicked minutes he could feel a change though. The skin beneath his hands no longer felt like a block of ice. With a shaky laugh Draco realised that he had been so focused on trying to find magical remedies for her shivering that he had ignored the simplest solution: body heat.

But then it hit him. To warm Granger he would have to…he would have to…touch her. Frowning in distaste Draco immediately stood up and backed away from the shivering girl. He couldn't…he didn't want her to die but that was going too far.

Pacing back and forth Draco tried to avoid looking at her. He ran his hands through his hair again and again in his frustration. Out of habit he glanced at her appraisingly. Mistake. 'Bloody hell!' he exploded, 'Can you just stop lying there looking all broken and dying?! You killed my father! You made me kill my own father!' Draco realised she could not hear him but the flood gates had opened now, it was too late. 'You lie there expecting me to save you! You're a fucking Palgrave! Do you know what that means? For us? For the Wizarding word?! This wasn't supposed to happen! I was supposed to be happy.' Draco paused, breathing deeply, 'Now I can't be happy because you are the Palgrave. You…you are the Palgrave.' Draco was almost in tears but his diatribe continued as he pointed an accusing finger at Hermione, 'It all makes sense now. If I had known…I might not have killed my father…if I had known about you! But…' Draco was quickly running out of steam, 'But you don't know what you are and you don't know what that means. You are going to ruin my life, but it is not in your control…it's your fate.' He finished bitterly, 'It's your fate to ruin me.'

As if in reply to Draco's soliloquy Hermione whimpered. Dropping to his knees Draco placed a hand against her clammy forehead. Her skin was still ice-cold but she had made a sound. It was the first positive sign he had seen since she had been hit with the curse.

He had finally made up his mind. With yet another deep sigh Draco crawled onto the mattress next to Granger's small form. He transfigured a rock to make a thick downy duvet which he pulled over the both of them. Gingerly he slipped his arm around her small middle to pull her closer. She was still a dead weight but her body seemed to mould instantly with his. Tucking her head under his chin and clutching his wand tightly, Draco allowed himself to drift into slumber for the first time since she had fallen.

*

When Draco woke again he woke to darkness. Was it night? The same night or a different one? He soon realised he was shivering. That must be why he had woken. Then he remembered Granger. Unwrapping his cold and aching arms from around her tiny frame he fluttered his fingers over her forehead. Her face was warm where it had been touching his skin but the rest of her was still freezing. No wonder he was shivering; he had been sleeping next to a block of ice!

_Her face is warm where it was touching my skin…_ With a regretful sigh Draco realised what he had to do. But how to do it? Should he close his eyes? _Ah fuck it_, he thought, _in for a knut in for a galleon. _

Crawling off the mattress Draco stood and stretched his aching body. _Fucking hell it gets cold up here at night_, he huffed ruefully. Some Avada Absinthe would have gone down a treat at that moment, _not only would it keep me warm but it might erase this shit from my memory_, thought Draco as he eyed the shaking girl at his feet.

Gritting his teeth and with numb, fumbling fingers Draco managed to undo the buttons on his now rather tatty black dress shirt. Wincing at the cold he tugged off his vest before he began fumbling with the zipper on his trousers. Soon the man stood in only his socks and his boxers, his taut, lean muscles thrown into sharp, haunting relief by the moonlight that made its way into the cave.

Noticing the goose bumps that crept over his body Draco realised that although Granger was not reacting to his heating charms, the same could not be said for himself, and seconds later he was sighing in relief as his body was enveloped by a fiery warmth.

Now for the hard part. Dropping to his knees before the shaking girl Draco steeled his resolve. If he did not do this she could die, her breathing weakened by the hour and the shaking was getting worse. He never thought that he would be saving the girl that he considered his worst enemy, the girl that was a blight in his world, the girl that swam infuriatingly in his thoughts, always beating him, always one step ahead.

She whimpered again, bringing him back to his senses. Wasting no more time Draco pulled back the cover that he had hastily thrown over her. Carefully, gingerly, his shaking hands reached for the hem of her jumper. His hands were no longer shaking from the cold. He grasped the woolen border and slowly inched it up her stomach.

Her pale skin shone and he marveled at the flat planes of her stomach that led to the arabesque curve of her belly. Her skin looked so soft and delicate in the moonlight; it was almost luminescent and he was reminded again of her vulnerability. The infallible, fiery woman was no longer indestructible.

Pulling her jumper up further he gasped at the dark bruises that blossomed across her chest. Pressing gently with the tips of his fingers Draco could feel the tell-tale signs of broken ribs. She had said nothing about it although the pain must have been nearly unbearable. With a pang of guilt Draco remembered his reluctance to heal her…she must have prioritized her arm and chosen not to tell him or Harry about her ribs. Stupid, stoic girl. _Vengeful pureblood wizard._

Swallowing his guilt Draco quickly healed the broken bones. He now slipped the jumper over the mounds of her breasts. He blinked in surprise at the realization that she was not wearing a bra. Looking away he slipped the jumper over her head and slipped her arms out of the sleeves as delicately as if he were undressing an infant. Next he peeled off her boots, shorts and finally stockings. He tried to ignore her shapely legs and her soft stomach as she lay clad in only her knickers.

Emitting a low growl from the back of his throat, Draco pulled the blanket over Hermione's almost naked body. Lying next to her on his back Draco studied the roof of the cave before slowly rolling onto his side. Tentatively he reached his arm across her stomach. The moment his naked skin touched hers he felt the oddest sensation, something akin to static electricity, pass between them. Hooking his arm on her side he rolled her so that she was facing him. Slipping his arms around her more fully now, he pulled her towards him and within seconds their bodies were pressed tightly together.

Tucking her head under his chin as before, Draco felt a sudden feeling of peace and determination wash over him. This delicate person needed him. She needed him and he was not going to let her die. He _could_ not let her die. With a groan he held her tighter and brushed his lips across the top of her head before burying his face in the hair of the girl that had suddenly and unexpectedly become his world.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Sam's eyes were unfocused. He gave his head an experimental shake. Bad idea. Then he tried to get up. Worse idea. Groaning, Sam tried to get his bearings. He could see Harry's form two feet away. He wasn't moving.

Without warning the word he had been trying to escape popped into his head. _Mel_. They had taken her.

Sam felt tears rising to his swollen eyes. Mel was gone. How had he let that happen?! Gritting his teeth he ignored the sharp, faint-inducing pain of what he imagined was a broken rib and pushed himself into a sitting position. His head throbbed and his vision was still blurred as he crawled his way towards Harry's unmoving figure.

Sam gingerly placed two fingers against Harry's limp wrist. There was a strong pulse. Sighing in relief but with an edge of barely contained panic Sam gently shook Harry by his shoulder. 'Mate. Wake up mate.'

It was half an hour before Harry stirred and by this time Sam's vision had returned to normal and he was able to stand without feeling faint. Harry was soon sitting and Sam helped the slightly shorter man to his feet.

'How are you feeling?' asked Sam through clenched teeth. He felt on the verge of screaming…he was on the cusp of a personal apocalypse, he could not afford to lose his cool now. Not while there was still a chance of saving her.

Closing his eyes Sam went through all the moments he had spent with Mel. All the moments he had spent loving her and never saying anything. If it was too late…

'What happened?' asked Harry as he tried to stem the bleeding from one of his many deep gashes.

'They…took…Mel.' was Sam's almost inaudible reply as he fought to retain composure.

'How long ago?' asked Harry in a steely voice. 'Those fuckers.'

'Half an hour…an hour?' Sam's furious eyes were trained on the ground.

'Let's go,' said Harry, 'those bastards will move fast but they should be easy to follow. We're going to do our best to get her back Sam,' he said, laying a comforting hand on the taller man's shoulder. After walking carefully round the clearing Harry made his decision. 'This way,' he beckoned to Sam as he followed a seemingly arbitrary path that lead away from the clearing and the caves higher up.

'What about Draco and Hermione…should we check on them.'

'I don't think those men would have made it as far as the caves after their run-in with us. They would need to regroup. Also…' Harry hesitated, a strained look on his face, 'we need to find Mel fast.'

'What aren't you telling me?' demanded Sam flatly.

'Those men weren't just an ordinary group of opportunistic humans…' said Harry with a wild look, 'they…they were a pack.'

'A pack?'

Harry paused before looking into Sam's panicked grey eyes before continuing grimly. 'Sam…what we are following is a pack of werewolves.'

*****

The shack was barely noticeable squatting amongst the trees. Covered in moss and dead leaves it was hard to discern from the scenery surrounding it. Shoddily boarded up windows and a door that hung almost off its hinges showed that the shack had been abandoned for some time. A foul stench pervaded the air. There seemed to be no signs of life but if one had drawn closer to the shack one would have been able to overhear the gleeful revelry of evil success.

'So big question boys…do we eat her or turn her? I'm all for killing the bitch…she managed to take a good fucking chunk outta me.' Trife half joked as he clutched his side in memory of the badly aimed bullet. His wound was healed but saying he didn't appreciate being shot at was an understatement on any day.

The pack was crowded around a still unconscious Mel. The small shack that constituted their headquarters let in little light but the werewolves could see perfectly through the gloom. At their leader's question the two men in the corner emitted low growls.

'We refused to come wiv you to hunt fuckin wizards and you bring 'em back here? That's bad form blood!'

'And now you're considering turning her?!'

'You got a problem with that boys?' snarled Trife before turning to Liam, Scratch and the rest of the hunting party, 'seems Rent an Dave want to keep this pretty little morsel alive n' human…'

The leader's statement was met with throaty snarls from the rest of the hunting party. Liam rounded on Rent and David, squaring up to them. 'We put our fuckin' lives at risk getting' our hands on her and I ain't giving her up mate. What you gonna do?!' Scratch moved to flank Liam, growling dangerously.

Rent, seeing that the situation was about to get very much out of hand simply shrugged his shoulders, 'I ain't got no case blood, just keep that shit to yourselves. You get me?'

David was visibly uncomfortable with the situation but followed suit, shrugging his shoulders and retreating further into his corner. 'Doesn't make any fucking difference to me mate.'

With a wickedly triumphant grin Liam turned back to his prize. She really was something. Her grubby orange dress had ripped in their scuffle to reveal several more inches of dark caramel thigh. Growling deeply in the back of his throat Liam ran a hand up her slim leg. It really would make sense to turn her…the last time they had had a female in the group was over two years ago and humans just didn't hold the same attraction for their kind.

Now to get rid of those two holier-than-thou fuckers in the corner. Liam could never quite put his finger on it but Rent and David made him feel uncomfortable. Scratch and Jangles had been with him on that one. Rent was charismatic, loud and physically intimidating. David was quiet and intelligent and always seemed to be silently observing. It was disconcerting. The duo had been with the pack for nearly two years now but they still kept to themselves. They also seemed to follow some sort of code that they never quite articulated to the pack, but that Liam and the others knew was non-negotiable. They rarely hunted with the pack and they never hunted when they were transformed. All the other pack members had developed a taste for human flesh but Rent and Dave stuck to a diet of animal meat. It baffled the other members, especially Liam and Scratch and their mate Jangles, who had met his fate the week before at the hands of some Wizarding fuckers.

In fact, Liam had no idea why the duo had joined the pack in the first place; they seemed to dislike every aspect of pack life. _Middle-class fuckers_, he chuckled to himself, _fink they're above the rest of us_. Whoever would have conceived of bourgeois werewolves?!

Turning from Mel to leer at David and Rent, Liam glanced at Trife before gleefully barking his instructions, 'Looks like no one is on guard duty fellas an' you just drew the fuckin shortest straws so get your complainin' arses outside.'

David and Rent didn't need to be told twice. Swinging their rangy frames from their corner they loped to the door without speaking.

As soon as they got outside into the smoky evening air the two men ran the perimeter of their HQ. Meeting up again at their starting point Rent was the first to speak, 'Fuck this blood, I ain't waiting here while they kill some bird. I fink we need to leave right now bruv. You get me?'

David nodded his head, 'Well we were going to leave in two days anyway, don't think it makes much difference when we go. Also, I agree with you mate, I'm not fucking staying here while they decide whether to mess up that girl's life or end it.'

'We should take her with us blood.'

'You know we'd never make it Rent. It's us or her. Five of them against two of us…we'll be fucked up enough without the dead weight of some unconscious bird.'

'I know bruv…but leavin' her just don't feel right.'

David looked sideways at the man sitting next to him. He knew Rent; once he decided on something he would go through with it. It was him who had decided to join Trife's pack. It was also he who had decided they should leave.

'So how do we plan on doing this?'

Rent's face split into a big grin and his teeth flashed in the moonlight, 'That's what I'm talking about bruv! The dangerous duo springin' birds outta jail blood!' Rent reached over to clap David on the back.

Dave smiled, Rent's enthusiasm was infectious; it was why he liked him so much. In a rare moment of levity David copied Rent's deeply urban London accent, 'Yeah yeah rudeboy it be the dangerous duo reportin' from deep in the forests of…where are we again?'

'Fuck knows blood!' Rent eventually managed to reply through his laughter.

'Hear me now, we be reportin' live from deep in the forests of "Fuck Knows" where meself Dave and me mate Rent be springin' birds, you get me! Those rudeboys better watch their battys cos for bloods on a mission it's maxing, relaxing, it ain't too taxing bluh! Big it up to da Werewolf Massive! Bloods for life!' Dave ended on a long howl.

By this point Rent was on the ground in hysterics. 'I didn't know you had it in you blood!'

'Well yes Rent,' said Dave, changing character in a matter of seconds, 'If one remembers that our universe is infinite and ever-expanding it logically follows that we live in a world of infinite possibility. In some alternate universe I would be unable to successfully replicate your British pseudo-Jamaican jargon.'

Rent didn't miss a beat and sat up to replicate David's po-faced humour, 'I have to say I agree David. In some alternate universe I pander to ethnocentric western hegemonies and ignore the aesthetics of my London tongue. In this one, however, I follow the liberated masses as they express themselves through theft and garage beats.'

David, straight faced but struggling to remain so, picked up Rent's thread with a voice not unlike David Attenborough's in a wildlife documentary, 'And for those less knowledgeable on the underground music scene in London, Garage, pronounced 'garridge', is a genre of popular underground music endemic to the United Kingdom. It is a mixture of hip-hop, dubstep, drum and bass and electro favoured by urban youth.'

At this point the two could no longer maintain their straight faces and they both chuckled as they stared out into the night. This was how it had always been; the two of them and their off-beat sense of humour, two very different men who complemented one another perfectly.

'So how are we going to get this girl out alive?'

'I've been thinking about it blood. I know I said we should leave tonight but that would require brute force, you get me. I fink we should make nice wiv the boys and when they've calmed down one of us springs that bird and the other leads the boys off on a false trail.'

'Sounds good to me,' said David, nodding thoughtfully, 'we just need to keep an eye on Liam and Scratch. Liam is just a dumb brute but Scratch is more intelligent. I've been watching him. He puts on a good act of behaving like a fucking Asbo Army yob but he's got some serious tricks up his sleeve. He's very careful, very dangerous. Snickers and Melber shouldn't give us any trouble…I don't know about Trife, he swings it really…if he attacks us Snickers and Melber might join the fray but I suppose it's a chance we could take.'

'You really are one observant fucker Dave,' smiled Rent impressed, 'Ta blood; I'll keep an eye on Scratch and Liam.'

As soon as they had solidified their plan a few hours later, Rent and David turned back to the shack. Rent's voice could be heard floating back on the light breeze, 'Seriously Dave, you bin' holding out on me blood, that accent was well funny.'

The last thing Sam and Harry heard was the fading chuckles of the two friends as they returned to the shack to start their mission.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

The Caves

Hermione was aching all over. She felt strangely detached from the pain. Where was she? Was she dreaming?

Hermione slowly tried to open her eyes. Everything was warm and light flooded her blurred vision. She closed them again. Sighing gently she snuggled further into…into…

With a jolt Hermione realised she had no idea where she was or what she was lying against. Opening her eyes more fully now, Hermione tried to focus her bleary orbs. All she could see was…a pale throat?

Hermione was scared now. What was going on? She was becoming more and more aware every second. The light surrounding her was blinding now that her vision had returned. Outside the halo of light that seemed to surround her Hermione could see only darkness.  
There was no ground and no ceiling. She seemed to be suspended inexplicably in the air like a giant lantern. And where was the light coming from??

Hermione tried to move. She could now feel a pair of muscular arms clasped tightly around her. Panicking slightly she tried to push away with her forearms, but they were crushed to a torso. A naked, male torso.

With a small shriek Hermione pushed with all her might. She heard a male voice begin to say her name but it was cut short. They both landed with a soft 'Oof!' on the mattress below. The light went out the moment they fell and all was bathed in darkness.

The male figure had rolled off to the side and Hermione could now move. She immediately leapt to her feet but her legs buckled under the unexpected weight. She scrambled backwards until her back hit the cold, dank wall of the small cave. With a yelp of shock at the immovable stone coming into contact with her skin Hermione ran her hands over her body. Why was she naked? What the hell was going on??

'Granger?'

A whisper echoed through the darkness.

'Granger,' said the voice again, 'I'm going to light my wand.'

'No!' Hermione sobbed, clutching at her naked chest, 'Who are you? What have you done to me?!'

The most awful scenarios were running through Hermione's mind. Had she been kidnapped? Had this man killed the others and taken advantage of her? Had he…had he…? With a small whimper Hermione blocked the terrible images from her mind.

'Granger,' said the voice again, more forcefully this time, 'I'm going to light my wand but I will close my eyes ok? Your clothes are next to the mattress. I will explain everything...' the voice paused and Hermione could hear a tone of consternation, 'well, as far as I can explain it anyway. Is that alright?'

Hermione sat against the wall weighing her options. Should she trust this person or should she try and fight her way out? Forcing herself to take deep calming breaths she tried to look at the situation more calmly. _I've just woken up, in mid-air, next to a naked man. I too am naked and have no recollection of how I got here. I am wandless. The man seems to be offering help. Perhaps he has already obtained what he wanted from me. _Tears pricked at her eyes again. _I'm wandless…_

A deep sigh issued from the darkness before the man again spoke, 'Granger…Hermione…I'm not going to hurt you alright. I'm going to light my wand in three, two, one.'

As the light spread through the small chamber Hermione gasped at the man who stood on the other side of the mattress. His blonde hair shone silver and his lean and muscular frame was relaxed. He stood with his wand held aloft, his other hand hung at his side and his eyes were tightly shut.

In her panic Hermione didn't even notice the thick strands of taut muscle and sinew that ran under the ghostly skin; the beautiful planes of the well-sculpted body that stood before her in lean Adonis-like splendor. What she did notice however, was the dark tattoo of a snake and a skull that stood out starkly against the smooth skin of his left forearm.

Pulling herself forward and still scrabbling uselessly with her legs, Hermione reached out for her pile of clothes. She tried to pull on the black jumper but this made her feel too vulnerable. She did not want to cover her eyes for even a second. She reached instead for the blanket that lay in a mussed heap. Once she had covered herself she moved painfully back to her small square of dank wall.

'What have you done Malfoy?'

The girl's visceral hiss made Draco's eyes fly open in shock but he said nothing. For over a minute the two simply stared at one another; Hermione's eyes wide with anger and fear, Draco's pupils flickering with indecision.

'What have you done Malfoy?' Hermione whispered again. This time there was a note of defeat in her tone.

'I…I think I saved you.'

The Shack

Sam and Harry were crouched in a small copse of trees just west of the shack. They were waiting to ambush the two werewolves they had overheard the night before. The sun had risen bleakly only two hours ago, and nests of mist still hung in the hollows.

The two men had not slept since they had begun to track Mel and her captors. Their faces were pale and drawn, save for the shadowy bruises that marred their skin and the dark circles that had settled, resolute, around their blood shot eyes.

'What time do you think werewolves wake up in the mornings?' growled Sam contemptuously, 'These fuckers had better appear soon.'

Harry glanced sideways at Sam. He had run out of comforting things to say to him. Reaching out he instead grasped the taller man's arm and gave an encouraging squeeze.

The grim line of Sam's mouth turned up at the corners in a strained manner, 'Thanks mate,' he said hoarsely, 'I'm sorry I'm such a mess…I know you're worried about Hermione…I'm worried about her too.'

Harry barked a short, hard laugh, 'Look at the two of us,' he said looking disdainfully down at himself, 'Both of the women we care about most in mortal danger. What the fuck was I thinking?' Harry moaned, 'Fighting like that in such a small cave…'

'Leading the woman I love into battle…' Said Sam, picking up where Harry tailed off.

'We'll get Mel back mate. It won't be easy but we'll get her back.'

'And when we get back Draco will have found a cure for Hermione.'

Neither of them really believed the words that flowed so resolutely from their mouths but it was some comfort at least. They had to hope.

It was another full hour before the shack showed any signs of life. It was Scratch and Liam who emerged first into the chill morning.


	17. Chapter 17

To the green-eyed-girl for making her wait so long and a big sorry to everyone else for not updating in forever! Thanks to those who are sticking with the story! xxx

Chapter 17

'What have you done Malfoy?'

The girl's visceral hiss made Draco's eyes fly open in shock but he said nothing. For over a minute the two simply stared at one another; Hermione's eyes wide with anger and fear, Draco's pupils flickering with indecision.

'What have you done Malfoy?' Hermione whispered again. This time there was a note of defeat in her tone.

'I…I think I saved you.'

Hermione stared up in disbelief at the man who stood before her clad in only socks and boxers. She clutched the blanket to hear own almost naked body in disbelief. 'Saved me? You haven't saved me. You've…you've…'

'It's not what you're thinking Granger!' growled Draco in frustration.

'Then where is everyone? Where is Harry?!' she gasped with a catch in her throat, 'Why am I-'

'Look, Granger,' started Draco, stepping towards her. He stopped as she shied away from him. 'Granger,' he attempted in softer tones, 'Let me explain.' The desperation in his voice made it sound forced. This was not going well.

'I- I don't want to know.' She said softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

'Dammit Granger!' Draco exploded, 'I just saved your life alright?! The least you can do is listen to me!'

Hermione sat stock still against the wall. Her face was closed. It was as though a curtain had descended, blocking all emotion.

Draco ran his hands agitatedly through his hair before gathering up his strewn clothes and tugging them on haphazardly. It wasn't easy to hold a lighted wand and get dressed at the same time.

As soon as he was fully clothed Draco lowered his tall frame onto the mattress and sat staring at Hermione. She still hadn't moved. 'Granger, I know how this looks.' She shot him a furious and terrified look. 'What's the last thing you remember?'

Hermione let Draco's question hang in the air for so long that he thought she wasn't going to answer. Just as Draco opened his mouth once again she spoke. 'I remember you calling me a Palgrave, and then fighting…you and Harry.'

'And then?'

'Flashes of light…that's all.' Hermione's eyes bore into his, 'You killed them all didn't you?'

This was going too far, 'No I bloody didn't Granger! It was your precious Pothead that hit you with a curse! I've been sitting over you for two full days trying to keep you alive!'

'Then where is Harry?!' Yelled Hermione still clutching the blanket tightly to her aching body, 'Where are Mel and Sam?'

'I don't know,' groaned Draco, 'Harry hit you with the curse and then we all heard a loud sound outside. I said I would stay here with you…the other three left to find out what the fuck was happening…I haven't seen them since.'

Hermione didn't know whether to believe him or not. He still had not answered her most burning question, 'And why…why do I have no clothes on?' she asked quietly, not meeting his eyes. She feared that she already knew the answer.

'I tried every healing spell I could think of. Nothing worked and Saint Potter couldn't remember what he'd hit you with.'

'What's that got to do with-' Hermione started indignantly.

'Just listen you infuriating little witch!'

Hermione glared at Draco but remained quiet.

'So I sat trying to heal you but nothing was working. About fifteen hours ago you started to get worse. You were shivering and shaking…your skin felt like ice beneath my fingertips. I did everything I could to warm you but none of my spells worked. You might want to mention this to Potter…he is one twisted little freak to be throwing around curses like the one he hit you with.' Draco glanced at Hermione but still she said nothing so he continued, 'After a few false starts I finally realised that the only way to get you warm was through body heat…extensive body heat.'

'So you didn't…?' Hermione felt unable to finish her question.

'Oh trust me Granger,' said Draco with the smallest ghost of his old smirk on his face, 'You'd have known if I'd…well, you know.'

Hermione's eyes sank automatically to his crotch. She looked away quickly as blood rushed to her face.

After five minutes of an extremely awkward silence Hermione spoke, 'I would like to get dressed now…do you…do you mind?' she said with as much dignity as she could muster.

Draco nodded shortly and held out his lit wand towards her, 'You'll need this.'

She hesitated before grasping the wand. Draco turned immediately and clambered back into the main chamber of the cave.

As soon as she could no longer see him Hermione let out a huge sob. She had thought that things couldn't possibly have gotten any worse. She realised now how wrong she had been. Now she was alone…no Ginny, no Ron and now no Harry. She didn't even know if he was alive or dead.

With another great shuddering sob Hermione buried her face into the now rather grimy blanket. She felt so helpless and so confused…both were emotions that the clever and powerful witch was not used to.

Finally pulling herself together after half an hour of much needed sobbing, Hermione slowly wiped her face on the blanket and sat up. She hastily pulled on her clothes and tried to run a hand through her hair. Quickly giving up on her mass of matted curls Hermione set herself to her next task; standing up. To her relief her legs seemed to have regained some of their strength and after only a few minutes she was picking her way gingerly towards Malfoy.

He sat in the mouth of the main cage with his back to her. Steeling herself she moved forwards as silently as possible.

Draco stiffened as he felt the tip of his own wand press sharply against the back of his head.

'What really happened Malfoy?' Hermione asked, her voice shaking slightly.

Draco didn't move an inch as he replied, 'I told you what happened.' His voice cracked with barely restrained anger.

Hermione had to be sure…she just had to, '_Veritas Verificis_!' she cried.

Draco leapt to his feet. 'What are you playing at Granger?!'

Hermione didn't flinch, she kept the wand trained on Draco as she spoke, 'Draco Malfoy you have _never_ done anything to deserve my trust, on the contrary, you have done everything in your power to hurt myself and my friends. You live a life which stands against every principle I uphold. If you think that I am merely going to accept a story that you tell me then you have severely underestimated me, as you have done since the day we met. The spell I have hit you with will merely ensure that you tell me the truth, nothing more.'

'Well in that case fire away then.' spat Draco. He was loath to admit it but she had a strong case. It was not his fault however, that she did not know the full story. 'Forgive me for thinking that saving your life and giving you my wand might suffice,' he snarled sarcastically.

At Draco's words Hermione lowered the wand a fraction but she kept it trained on him as she asked her first question, 'Who hit me with that curse?'

'Potter,' said Draco shortly.

'Did you harm any of the others?'

'No.'

'Do you know where any of the others are?'

'No.'

'Did you…did you take advantage of me in any way?'

'No.'

'Was that story you told me earlier the truth?'

'Yes,' said Draco, 'Is the interrogation over yet?'

Hermione sighed, 'It is if you promise me one thing.'

'And what might that be?' drawled Draco.

'Promise to tell me everything you know about Palgraves.'

Draco's mouth worked as he stared furiously at the woman in front of him. He did not want to tell her. Telling her would make it real. Unfortunately she wasn't leaving him much choice…he needed her to lift the spell before she asked something she wouldn't like the answer to. If she asked him whether or not he'd had a hard-on he'd be finished.

'Fine,' he finally ground out.

'_Veritas Immobilis_' pronounced Hermione with a wave of his wand.

Draco stared at her. Her face was unreadable but she seemed to be fighting an internal battle. After thirty suspenseful seconds she did something that Draco would never have expected her to do in a million years.

Taking two small steps forward she flung her arms around his neck. 'Thank you.' She whispered quietly into his neck, 'Thank you for saving me.'

Draco was too taken aback to react and he stood with his arms held stiffly at his sides, his fists clenched. He didn't even notice the flash of bright light that erupted when their bodies collided.


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

**David and Rent**

The Shack

'_You really are one observant fucker Dave,' smiled Rent impressed, 'Ta blood; I'll keep an eye on Scratch and Liam.'_

_As soon as they had solidified their plan a few hours later, Rent and David turned back to the shack. Rent's voice could be heard floating back on the light breeze, 'Seriously Dave, you bin' holding out on me blood, that accent was well funny.'_

_The last thing Sam and Harry heard was the fading chuckles of the two friends as they returned to the shack to start their mission._

Once they were inside, David and Rent separated as planned. Rent went over to Trife who was leaning casually against a wall, observing everything that was going on.

'Oi oi.' Said Rent by way of greeting as he tossed Trife a warm beer. Trife grunted his thanks. Rent chose not to speak but simply leaned against the same wall, nonchalantly swigging his beer.

To a casual observer the two men almost looked as though they could be brothers. They both towered at six-foot-three and, unlike David, whose height seemed a little ungainly, it suited Trife and Rent. They had a solidity to them, a hardness, no doubt down to the planes of thick, taut muscle that ran beneath their black, shining skin. They seemed to ripple as they moved, both predatory, like black panthers, exuding power, intelligence and danger. Their faces were defined by high, razor-sharp cheekbones, dark, almond-shaped eyes and lips that could either spread wide in a dazzling white-toothed smile or display a tight-lipped aggression.

In other words, they were beautiful

The only immediately noticeable difference between them was their hair. Trife had thick dreadlocks that stopped just below his shoulders while Rent never let his tight, black curls grow more than a centimeter. If one had wanted to look closer (which one invariably would) one might notice that Rent's eyes were an unusually beautiful moss green while Trife's eyes were so dark they were almost black. Trife also favoured a tatty pair of jeans that he wore rolled up to his knees. He didn't bother with anything else apart from a slim gold chain that hung round his neck. Rent preferred to be fully clothed as much as possible and more often than not would be seen sporting an old black polo neck and grubby Levi's with a once beautiful Ethiopian scarf knotted at his neck. Both men were traffic-stopping.

And it was not only their astounding physical presence that would cause people to stop and stare as they walked by, but also their charisma. Trife and Rent both had the uncanny ability to fill a room with their personalities. Their loud booming laughs and deep, chocolaty voices had the ability to melt women in seconds.

Momentarily forgetting his objective, Rent thought back to the days when he hadn't had to hide from humanity like some animal; when he had been famous for his photography…when Gina had still loved him.

He remembered the night they had met. Rent had been in high demand, more work than he could possibly manage was coming his way and he could take his pick of the best jobs in London. He was shit-hot and he loved it. He'd just finished shooting the cover for Vogue and felt like he needed to take a bit of a break. It had been too long since he'd shot his last serious series but he needed inspiration. Sitting in a high-end bar surrounded by models who survived mainly on air and gossip he realised he was not going to find it there. Leaving more than a few disgruntled models behind, Rent had hit the London streets. He walked for miles. He hadn't even been looking for a photograph, he just wanted to clear his head but he hadn't been ready to head back to his flat yet.

That was when he had seen her.

She was sitting on the steps of a semi, bathed in a pool of light. Her white angel-wings hung at an angle as she sat slumped forward slightly, her head resting in one hand as the other lay across her knee. Her blonde hair covered one half of her face but the half that Rent could see was heavenly. A bright blue eye shone out of a golden face. Her white stockings had a hole in them. It had been love at first sight.

He had never been more thankful to have his camera on him.

'You alright blood?'

It was Trife. 'Yeah bruv, was just finkin' about before…you know.' Said Rent as he came back to the present.

Trife simply nodded, he knew that the memories of their former lives still haunted all the men in the pack; the lives they'd had before they'd been bitten.

Rent broke the silence, 'So where are we planning to move from here blood, wiv the heat of those fuckers from the other day we'd better keep moving, you get me?'

Trife began to answer but Rent wasn't listening, he was looking over at Dave who was playing cards in a corner with Snickers and Melber. Their plan seemed to be working alright so far, the pack seemed to have forgotten their disagreement over the girl and the atmosphere was relaxed. Dave was doing a good job even though Rent could see he was tense. Their eyes met for a brief second as David looked up. Rent nodded his head almost imperceptibly and the corners of David's mouth lifted up in a smile before he turned his attention back to the card game.

Seamless. That's what they were. David and Rent seemed to think the same way. It was probably why they got on so well. They had met while on the run from people who had learned about their 'wolfish tendencies'. They had worked together to get out of a tight spot and had been friends ever since.

David played an ace. 'Ah fuck,' He exclaimed good naturedly, giving Melber a slap on the back when the next card was put down, 'How do you always get the best cards mate!'

'Just one of them things Dave, just one of them things.' Grinned Melber as he pointed to David's glass. 'Now drink up, there's a good boy!'

David's hand curled around his glass and he grimaced as he threw his head back and downed the shot of cheap whiskey. As he was slamming his glass back down on the table though, David caught a flicker of movement out of the corner of his eye. It was a mirror that none of them had noticed, so dusty that it was almost invisible against the wall. He swiped at it with his hand.

God he looked awful. His hair, which was now long and shaggy, was gathered back underneath a faded blue beanie that sat at the back of his head. He desperately needed a shave and his grubby clothes hung off his frame. He thought back to the days when he hadn't looked like recycled shite, when he had worn fitted cotton shirts and well-worn designer jeans and his dark brown hair had been slicked back and shiny. He had been a junior professor at a University, Social Anthropology, his first and only love. Staring at his reflection he could barely see the man he had once been. His eyes were still the same…well sort of. They were the same hazel brown they had always been but they were now sunk deeper into his sockets and were surrounded by dark circles. The only thing he didn't mind was the tan. Spending so much time outside had changed his skin from a pale, pasty white to a more healthy, golden colour. Although he mused that it could simply be a result of the many layers of dirt that he was now encased in.

David absent mindedly played another card.

'Are you trying to lose or what mate?' Melber was looking at him quizzically.

Snickers grinned cheekily, 'Yeah mate, stop lookin' at your fuckin' reflection and play some decent cards!'

David smiled at them wryly, 'Next round I'm gonna have you both crying like little bitches.'

Snickers laughed, 'I'd like to see you fuckin' try mate! Now drink up!'

Still wincing from his latest shot David realised that if he didn't concentrate on the game he'd be shit-faced within an hour. Time to start thinking about the girl they were trying to save. Time to focus.

*

In a small back room Scratch and Liam were bent over Mel.

'She's a good lookin' bird innit?' Rasped Liam. 'Best fing that's ever fuckin' happened to this pack.' His fingers were playing with the hem of her dress.

'Too right mate,' replied Scratch with a nasty leer, 'We're gonna have some fun wiv this one.' He took a step back and reached for his glass. After downing the crap liquor he chucked his glass into a corner. He laughed as silver shards shot across the room.

Liam wasn't impressed. 'You're fuckin' shattered mate.'

Scratch looked blearily down at his comrade, 'Yeah I am. And so are you. It's fuckin' brilliant!'

'Yeah, yeah.' Liam turned back to Mel.

'Well I'm heading out get some air guv, this place stinks like a flipping shit-house and I fink it's almost mornin' Scratch threw over his shoulder as he lurched from the room, 'Looks like we pulled an all-nighter mate. Call me when the bitch wakes up!'

Ignoring Scratch's fading chuckles Liam ran a dirty finger along Mel's face. 'It's just a matter of time now my pretty,' he whispered, 'And you'll be mine for the rest of your short life.'

As if reacting to his touch a shiver ran the length of Mel's body. Then she groaned. Liam sat back on his haunches as he watched her surface.

Her eyes opened oh so slowly. They flickered and then closed again. A delicate, long-fingered hand reached clumsily to her head. She whimpered as her hand came into contact with the blood-matted lump that adorned the side of her head. Suddenly, as if sensing another presence in the room, her body stiffened. She seemed almost scared to open her eyes again.

'Good mornin' love.' Said Liam nastily.

Her eyes flew open and she tried to sit up. She gasped in pain and fell back to the floor with a soft thud.

'Now, now darlin', no use gettin' all worked up, don't want to hurt yerself do ya?'

He edged closer to her, a malevolent gleam to his piggy eyes. Her eyes were wide with panic. He reached out again for the hem of her dress.

'Don't you fucking touch me.' She spat as her hands curled into fists.

'Oho so we have a fighter!' Liam announced to the empty room, 'I've always loved a feisty gal.' Without warning he lowered his face towards hers and she could feel his hot, foul breath on her cheeks. She tried to fight him off but it was useless, her strength was no match for his and he held her down as if she were a mere doll. Before she had time to think his lips were crashing down on to hers and the weight of his body made it impossible to move. She did the only thing she could think of.

'Ouch! Jesus, you fucking bitch!' Liam had jumped back as if burned and was putting a tentative hand up to his bleeding lip. 'You bit me little lady, you're going to pay for that.' He said as he wiped away the trickling blood. 'Oh believe me; you're going to pay for that.'

He grabbed her once more, this time running his hands all over her body. Grasping her neck. Inching up her dress. Clutching her hips. All the time his rough lips were crushed against her own unwilling ones. Again she tried to fight back, but again it was no use. Her dress had been pushed up to her stomach now.

_This isn't happening. This isn't happening._

She turned her head away from him. She closed her eyes.

Suddenly one of her hands was free. She could do this.

She struck him as hard as she could across the face. He barely flinched. But he was angry now. He looked at her obstinate face. She needed to be taught a lesson. 'You don't fuck with me princess!' He pulled back his arm. His hand was curled into a fist.

Liam's face wore a satisfied sneer as her head lolled to the side once more.

Just then Scratch came back into the room. 'I smelled somefing when I was out there.'

Liam immediately knew what it would be. 'Wizards. Magic bastards.'

'They came for her.'

'Well they ain't gonna get her are they?' said Liam with a wicked smile, 'Did you tell the others?'

'Nah mate, thought we could handle this by ourselves,' replied Scratch with an equally nasty leer.

'Let's get going then.' Whispered a gleeful Liam before they both emerged into the early morning sunlight to face the men that had tracked them down.

Back in the shack, the ever observant Dave had signaled to Rent. Something was going down. Something bad. Time to act.


End file.
